The Agents of Chaos
by Ying-Fa-dono
Summary: Sarah Williams had her first heart attack the day after she returned from the Labyrinth. Now she's searching for a cure and accidently stumbles into the treacherous world of the Goblin King and discovers that he has a boss. A boss who knows what happened.
1. The Forsaken Agent

**Ying-Fa: HEY, EVERYBODY! Thought you've see the last of Ying-fa and her Labyrinth fanfics?! Guess again! I've come up with yet another one and, guess what . . . it's gonna be a trilogy! That's right, my first ever planned trilogy. Hopefully, I'll actually go through with it. I can be fickle. Anywhos, please read and enjoy the prologue.**

**Prologue – Jareth, the Forsaken Agent**

The hall was dark and cold despite the long rows of torches burning all throughout the cavernous room. Five men were standing around in the hall, waiting patiently. They had received their orders to come to this place, the hall of their master, to witness something very important.

"They're going to be late," said one of them, with swept-back, strawberry blonde hair and wide blue eyes. "Well, it's their punishment, I suppose."

"Now, now, now, Ruther, said another man. This one spoke with a sway in his voice, which may have passed as south-western. He had black hair and a silver tooth that flashed whenever he spoke. "They'll be on time, they always are. We are always on time when the Big Man asks us to be, are we not?"

"You are too sympathetic, Zane," said Ruther, grinning. "That attitude will get you punished as well."

"Look!" cried yet another man. "Here comes one of them now."

The doors at the end of the massive hall opened and a sixth man entered the room. This one had long, icy blonde hair that framed his scarred and distorted face. It was a face that could have, at one time, been handsome but now caused one to cringe upon looking at him.

"Forgive me, I know am very nearly late," said the newcomer. "Yet, if I count correctly, I am not the last to arrive."

"But you are the last to arrive," said a loud, booming voice from behind them all. "Come, come Saturnin, and join your brothers."

The newcomer went to stand next to his companions, looking up at the one who had just spoken. At the very end of the immense hall stood a black, marble throne that was embedded with rubies, which had been empty upon each man's arrival. Now, however, it was occupied by a man who was hidden completely in shadow. All that could be seen was a white hand that was carefully drumming its very long, black fingernails upon the armrest.

"Ruther, Zane, Saturnin, Vahrley, Quintus, and Kieran" said the figure in the shadows. "My faithful Agents, you have all done well in arriving right when I ask you. I, whose word is law, appraise you all for you services once again."

The five men bowed deeply. "We live to serve thee who grants us everything," said Zane, his silver tooth flashing as he grinned. "Lord Chaos."

After a slight pause, the men started to exchange looks. They were all thinking the same thing, and Chaos knew exactly what it is.

"You wonder, my Agents, about the whereabouts of your seventh companion," said Chaos. "You inquire as to what has happened to your brother . . . Jareth?"

The men bowed their heads and nodded to the floor, knowing that there was no need to hide anything from their master. Chaos stood from his throne and paced in front of them, never entering the light so they could see his face.

"I have a most distressing tale to tell, Agents," said Chaos. "Your brother has gone against the oath that bound him to me when I have him the title of an Agent of Chaos. Now, I want you all to ponder your brother for a moment. He has been with me longer than half of you have been. I granted him the most grievous of responsibilities as a sign of my trust in him. I commanded that he serve in the Great Maze, the mighty Labyrinth, and command my lesser subjects, the goblins. I bestowed upon him his every last desire. And yet, yesterday, he has betrayed me."

The five Agents raised their eyes to gape at their master. It wasn't possible. Nobody ever dared to turn their back on the likes of Chaos. It just wasn't something that was to be done, if you valued your life, that is. If you valued your life and much, much more, for that matter.

"In exchange for his every whim, I ask only that he gives me himself over to my services," said Chaos. "For many, many years he obeyed this command and served me well. But yesterday, just yesterday, he took matters into his own hands. He offered his services to another. Not just any other, mind you. He offered his soul, his body, and even his heart . . . to a simple, little, mortal _girl_."

The Agent named Ruther, threw his head back and laughed so loudly that it echoed off the walls. "A mortal girl, did you say?" he asked his voice still full of malicious laughter. "It sounds to me that our brother, Jareth, has succumbed to insanity! To forsake our great Lord Chaos for the likes of that!"

"Indeed, Ruther, he has lost his senses completely," said Chaos, acknowledging his most flamboyant Agent. "In more ways than one. Agents, I give you . . . the forsaken Goblin King Jareth!"

Chaos waved his long-nailed hands and the floor beside his throne opened up. Rising up from the crevice was a large, stone slab with a figure chained to it in the position of a man being crucified. His wrists were shackled to the stone and the rest of his body was dangling lifelessly. The Agents stared at him with both excitement and caution. The Agent named Vahrley came forward slightly and examined him.

"Egad!" he grunted in very deep, bullfrog's voice. "The filthy codger's gern and Shattered 'imself!"

"That he has, Vahrley," said Chaos. "Jareth knew that it was only a matter of time before I found out what he did. So, he has undergone the terrible process of Shattering himself voluntarily. All we see before us is his empty body, his physical form, which he left behind for me to see. There isn't any psyche in him anymore, nor any power. He is now barely more than a doll. Still, even with him in pieces, that does not mean that he cannot suffer."

Chaos raised his hand again and pointed it at Jareth's lifeless form. Large, black thorns appeared from behind the slab and creeped their way along his arms, legs, torso, and neck. All at once, the thorns squeezed tightly and sank their sharp tips into his skin. Blood spilled out of every puncture and the body twitched and groaned in pain.

"This treatment will not kill you yet, Jareth, my greatly disappointing Agent," said Chaos. "It is simply here to cause you endless suffering. Wherever your other pieces are, they shall also endure pain. Slowly, very, very slowly, the poison in these vines shall eat away at your body until there is nothing left. May the whole of you suffer and suffer until you finally manage to succumb to Death. Even then, only Hell shall await you. You shall burn in its fiery depths forever and ever. Now, let his fate be a lesson to all of you, my Agents. Now you may know what happens to those who forsake Chaos."

Jareth's body convulsed as the thorns scrapped deeper and deeper into his skin. His head fell back as he let out a long, loud scream of pure agony. His scream stretched on and on, echoing throughout the room, falling only upon the ears of those who did not care about his pain and predicament. They only laughed at it.

They were all so busy enjoying Jareth's torture that none of them noticed a short creature peeking into the room. Hoggle watched and listened to Jareth's torment until he could take it no more. He slid his face out of the door and made is way quietly through Chaos's black, dark castle. Before long, he finally made his way to a large set of doors that Saturnin had left open when he had arrived, for at the time he'd expected one more Agent to show up. Hoggle slipped out of the large doors into the pouring rain that always filled the air around the Castle Within the Black Mountain. Hoggle made his way down the stone steps that lead up to the castle, slipping and sliding a bit. After a very long climb down the slippery slope, he found the ground at the base of the Mountain covered in black boulders. Behind one of these boulders, he found his two companions hiding.

"Brother Hoggle!" cried Sir Didymus, who was sitting astride his sheep dog steed Ambrosius. "What has happened? Didst thou find what thou was looking for?"

"Yep," said Hoggle, shaking his head. "It's all over. Jareth's a goner. Chaos is torturin' the 'ell outta him. He's gonna keep doin' it until he dies, apparently."

Ludo let out a startled roar. "King . . . gone?"

"It looks that way," said Hoggle. "You all know what this means? We ain't goin' back to the Labyrinth! Odds are things are only gonna get worse when Chaos puts another Agent in charge. An' if he hears about us helpin' Sarah beat the Labyrinth, we're good as dead too!"

"Alas, thou art correct," said Didymus, lowering his head sadly. "Tis dark times heading our way, my brothers. Come, let us venture forth and find a new place to call home for ourselves."

"Yeah," said Ludo, enthusiastically. "Ludo and friends all go!"

"But what about Sarah?" asked Hoggle. "What'll we say to 'er if she calls us? What if she needs us?"

"We shall think of something, my brother," said Didymus, sadly. "For now, however, we must retreat. Come, Ambrosius, we're going on a walk. Hup, hup!"

Silently, the three creatures trudged away into the dark, pouring rain.

* * *

"So, Sarah, what did you want to talk to us about?"

Sarah shuffled her feet under the table. This was a lot harder than she'd imagined. After all the fun of the previous night, when she'd celebrated her victory over the Labyrinth with her friends and other goblins, she'd made the decision to come clean to her parents and tell them of her adventure. At the time it seemed that all she had to fear was her parent's thinking she wasn't a good babysitter but now that she was finally here, sitting across from her father and stepmother, it was much more intimidating.

Irene, her stepmother, was bouncing her son, Toby, on her knee and was fixing Sarah with a quizzical look. Robert, her father, had a softer look in his eye but Sarah knew from experience that he would do whatever it was that his wife suggested.

"Um, well," said Sarah, feeling her heartbeat quicken with each passing second. "Daddy, Irene . . . um, this is about . . . last night . . . as I took care of Toby for you."

"Oh," said Robert. "I think I know where this is going, young lady."

"Y-you do?!" said Sarah, stunned. Her heart beat did not slow down in the slightest at this news.

"Yes," said Robert, nodding understandingly. "We've been talking it over and we think it's a good idea all around."

"Huh? But I don't . . ."

"We understand that, after all the work you've been doing, you'll be wanting payment," said Irene, also nodding. "Any teenager would want an allowance for the work they put into the household. I also think that it would make you a little more willing to participate."

"Um, that's, um," said Sarah, unsure of what to say. Her heart was still pounding and it was starting to be very irritating. She wanted to bring her hand up and start rubbing it, but she didn't want her father and stepmother to think too much of it.

"So, what do you think is fair, Sarah?" asked Robert. "A proper amount that is fitting for the effort you put into taking care of your brother. I was thinking . . . oh say . . . five dollars an hour?"

"That sounds like a bit much," said Irene. "For a normal babysitter, maybe that amount would work, but Sarah lives in this house too. A fifteen year old young woman like her can't be given too much, or she'll get spoiled. Nah ah ah, Toby," she added, pulling Toby's fist out of his mouth. "There'll be no thumb-sucking here, young man."

Something was wrong. Her heart just wouldn't stop pounding, and she knew it had nothing to do with her nerves. It was pounding faster and more painfully by the second. She finally raised her hand up and rubbing her chest, but it didn't help. It was becoming a lot harder to breathe all of a sudden.

"Well, whatever you think is a fair payment is fine with . . ." Robert continued, unaware of Sarah's discomfort. But when he turned to face his daughter, his eyes widened with concern. "Sarah? Sweetheart, are you alright?"

"N-no," gasped Sarah. Little lights had begun flashing in front of her eyes as breathing became nearly impossible. She tried to stand up from her chair, but she collapsed on the floor.

Sarah Williams barely had time to hear her father tell his wife to call an ambulance before everything got dark, then silent.

**Ying-Fa: How's that for a start? Don't worry. Maybe she'll live . . . if I'm kind. Please leave your reviews after the beep.**


	2. The Struggling Student

**Ying-Fa: Thank you everyone who decided to take a look at my story so far! It's wonderful to see familiar faces! (or names) I beseech ye, please continue to read my latest story.**

"Okay, I want the reports handed back to me on Friday," said the professor, staring around at his class. "And I advise you all to get started, very soon, on your end-of-term projects. Alright, enjoy your weekend."

Sarah sighed as she shoved her things into her bag. _Enjoy your weekend_, she thought bitterly. _With all that work you gave us? Right._

The rest of the students in her classroom were filing out and she knew she needed to join them. Everyone had assured her that she would enjoy college, but she couldn't help but feel she was only here to make spectators shut up. She didn't really have any drive to be here and felt like she was hindering the others. But, what else was she supposed to do with her life?

"Hey, Sarah."

Sarah turned to see Matt, a boy who shared a few of her classes came toward her. "Hello, Matt," she said, smiling.

"Hi," he replied. "Listen, some of us were going to go to The Crossroads for a drink tonight. Do you wanna come?"

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Matt, I've told you a hundred times, I don't drink. I _can't_ drink. Doctors orders."

"Then get a Shirley Temple and just hang out with us," Matt insisted. "You hardly do anything with us."

"Because I can't," said Sarah, exasperated. "I know you like living the wild life of a college student, but I can't afford too."

Matt's shoulders slumped in surrender. "That's too bad. It must suck having heart conditions like that."

Sarah gave a hollow laugh. "That it does. Still, it's not something I can just ignore. I've already had one heart attack, I'm not going to risk any more."

"That's too bad," Matt said again, looking disappointed. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Sarah."

"Yeah, bye," Sarah called as Matt retreated. He was a nice guy, Matt, but he lived the kind of life that could get her killed. He enjoyed his liquor, partied often, and had plenty of girlfriends. Askew though his morals were, he still showed real class and never pressured when someone said 'no'. Sarah liked him on a strict 'friends only' basis and he respected that.

Sarah walked through the central building of her college, heading back to her dorm where she had a room to herself. It was her third home that year. Until three months ago, she'd been living with a cousin who lived over in the next town. When the cousin had taken off on a long road trip with some friends, that's when Sarah signed up for her dorm. Sarah never stayed in one place for too long, not since she'd turned eighteen years old and had gotten out of her father's house as soon as she could.

It wasn't that anything horrible had happened with her family, indeed she kept in close touch with them, it's just that she couldn't stay in that house anymore. After her heart attack at fifteen years old, she'd always felt scared and restless and unwilling to stay in the same place for too long. Once she left her father, stepmother, and brother's house, she lived with her biological mother, Linda, for awhile. When Linda got a new boyfriend and moved away with him, Sarah moved in with her aunt. She'd been bouncing from place to place, relative to relative, for seven years.

Sarah arrived at her tiny dorm room, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. It was a well-kept room with all her possessions in there proper place. It was a surprising display of neatness for the average 25-year-old college student/receptionist. Sarah hung up her bag on a hook on the wall and fell onto her bed. She felt irritated with herself as she went through her living experiences up until now. She was acting like a frightened little girl running from the boogeyman. She wasn't even entirely sure that the Goblin King _was _responsible for her unending heart problems that she'd been enduring ever since that fateful night, a decade ago, when she'd stumbled upon another world.

No amount of psychology classes could make her talk herself into believing that the Labyrinth had all been a dream. She knew it wasn't and nobody could take that knowledge away from her. The knowledge wouldn't go away even if she wanted it to. Her mind kept going back to it, no matter what happened. But she never saw her friends or any of the creatures she met after the event. She couldn't risk _him_ finding her again. The fact that she'd had a premature heart attack mere hours after she defeated him was just too coincidental. That was why she kept moving from place to place as often as she could. It was the best thing she could do to stay away from him.

But he kept finding her. It would start with mild feelings of déjà vu and feelings of being watched. Then very light, yet vivid dreams would start coming. In the dreams, she could hear him calling her name, very quietly, very distantly. If she allowed too much time to pass, the dreams would get more dangerous, his voice louder, but she would never see his face. Finally, she would wake with her troubled heart pounding and her body aching so horribly she was sure another heart attack was on its way. If it got to that point, it was time to move. When she left where she was and kept busy and changed her surroundings completely, the dreams would vanish entirely and she would sleep peacefully, believing to have successfully escaped the Goblin King's clutches once again.

The ringing of her phone woke Sarah from her musings. She didn't answer it but let it ring. She had a feeling she knew who it was on the other line and she did _not_ want to speak to him at all right now. After a few minutes of ringing, a voice came onto her answering machine.

"**Sarah? Are you there, babe? Look, babe, I know you're mad, but you can't let it get in the way of our relationship! Yesterday was . . . yesterday, right? Well, today is today and . . .**"

Too irritated to listen to his babbling, Sarah picked up the phone. "Chuck, I've told you to _stop calling me_," she growled angrily into the phone.

"Aw, babe, don't be like that," whined Chuck. "We'll work this out."

"Chuck, let me say this loud and clear so that it can get through your thick skull," said Sarah, heatedly. "We. Broke. Up. I am no longer your girlfriend, you no longer have the right to call me 'babe' (which you know I hate!) and you no longer have the right to call me and leave a thousand messages on my machine (which I also hate)!"

"Come on, babe," said Chuck, and Sarah could just see him in her mind wearing that big, stupid smile she'd at one time thought was cute. "You can't let those itsy, bitsy, little things get in the way of our relationship."

"Itsy, bitsy, eh?" said Sarah, her temper boiling. "So the fact that you only wanted to date me was so you can win a bet with your friends, the fact that you wanted to keep your reputation of sleeping with every girl you've ever spoken to in check, and the fact since I was unwilling to deliver you went around and slept with Charlene are all just insignificant little things, hm?"

"Aw, c'mon, babe," said Chuck, now sounding desperate _and_ stupid. "A man's got needs, and trying to get with you is like trying to get with a nun! You didn't even like me kissing you."

"Maybe that's because you're so bad at it," Sarah snapped. "Go look for Charlene or whatever it is that you do. Don't call me again and _stop calling me 'babe'!_"

Sarah slammed the phone down, irritated and embarrassed with herself. It wasn't true. She wasn't like trying to get with a nun. She'd had boyfriends before but, true, she hadn't gotten to . . . that point with any of them. She wanted it to be with someone she would never want to forget. Someone special and who she felt for very deeply, someone she may truly love. Giving into the temptations of men like Chuck would only scar her for the rest of her life, she was sure of it.

Sarah flopped back down onto her bed, now more irritated then ever. Perhaps she should focus on her school work. That would rid her of thoughts of that blockhead Chuck. She reached under her pillow and pulled out the small red book that had caused so much trouble a decade ago. She then turned onto her side and dug into her school bag and looked at the assignment she was supposed to turn in at the end of the term for her journalism class.

**Interview one person who has had a great significance in your life. Write an 8 page report on how the lifetime of this person and what they have done to change and/or affect you. **

Sarah turned her eyes back to the book and opened up to the title page.

**The Labyrinth**

_By A.C. Harbinger_

"Hm," Sarah murmured aloud. Maybe it was time at last that she did something she'd been thinking about for a very long time. Ever since her time in the Labyrinth, she'd wondered if the author had known what he had written about was true. She'd often wondered about who A.C. Harbinger was. How had he managed to capture something so true? What would he say if he met the main character of a story that had been written a very long time ago? According to the date on the book, it had been published a good twelve years before Sarah was born. Was he still alive?

Yes, it was time. She would seek out A.C. Harbinger and ask him about the Labyrinth. She had too. It wasn't just for the project. That was just the cover-up story she was going to use as an excuse to talk to him. Something told her that if she sought out A.C. Harbinger, she may just find the solution to escaping the Goblin King's shadow once and for all. There would be no more dreams that scared her into moving away again. She needed to take charge in her own life.

Settled with her decision, she sat down at her small desk and started to work on some other homework she'd been assigned in other classes. A.C. Harbinger, whoever he was, plagued her mind however, and it was very hard to concentrate on her work.

* * *

_Sarah . . ._

There it was, yet again. That haunting voice within the nothingness of her dreams. She didn't want to listen to it. She didn't want to hear that voice ever again. That voice that was smooth as silk yet laced with darkness tormented her mind.

_Sarah . . ._

She tried to turn away, but there was nowhere to go. Her mind was lost in the darkness of dreamless sleep. She tried to move, but nothing worked. She was paralyzed, but was it fright or was she stuck in the nothingness between dreaming and being awake?

_Sarah . . . Sarah . . ._

It had to stop. She wanted it to stop. She wouldn't listen to him anymore. She wouldn't say his name, she wouldn't respond to the voice that called her name endlessly when she dared let her guard down and close her eyes. But it just got louder, stronger, the more her body refused to move. If she stayed like this too long, he'd find her. Who knew what would happen if he finally found her. She had to escape somehow. Had to run away. Had to escape.

_Sarah . . . Sarah . . ._

Move, she thought desperately within her own mind. Wake up, body. Wake up, mind. I have to move. I must wake up. Move! Move, body, move! Wake up, mind!

_Sarah . . . Sarah, please . . ._

"No!"

Sarah sat bolt upright, panting and sweating slightly. She'd just wrenched herself out of the seemingly peaceful sleep she'd been enjoying. That is, she _had_ been enjoying it. She could still hear the faint echo of the Goblin King's voice in her mind. Her chest hurt a lot. Her weak heart was pounding uncomfortably as it always did when she awoke from dreams about the Goblin King.

Sliding out of bed and rubbing her chest to soothe the pain, she went into her miniscule bathroom and found her small bottle of pills. She poured out a few of the large, white tablets and popped them into her mouth. She didn't like her heart pills very much. They made her feel weak and sickly, but they were supposed to be what protected her from another heart attack. She'd been taking them for ten, long years. Ever since her heart attack when she was fifteen, she'd been taking these pills. Sarah didn't know how much they actually helped her. They made her feel bad and didn't stop the pain very well. The only thing that made her heart feel better was when she was in the process of moving and adapting to a new town, home, and life. But she couldn't move again. She had nowhere to go. The dorms were booked solid, her classes were just getting started, she finally had a job that paid well and trying to find another one just wasn't a option right now, and she didn't have any relatives in this area she could ask.

_The sooner I talk to A.C. Harbinger, the better_, Sarah thought. Perhaps the mysterious author of the story that had started it all would have the answers she needed. Maybe he could help her solve the mystery of the Labyrinth forever and, most of all, help her get the voice of the Goblin King out of her dreams and out of her life. She was sick of trying to tame her heart problems and she had the strangest feeling that he was behind it. How she knew this was anyone's guess.

"I have to find the author," said Sarah, aloud. "It may be the only chance I've got to ending this once and for all."


	3. The Elusive Author

"Really? Oh, that's weird. No, no it's alright. Yes, thanks anyway."

Sarah hung up the phone, feeling agitated. A.C. Harbinger was turning out to be a very difficult person to find. As far as she could tell, the name A. C. Harbinger was a penname, since nobody she could find through her research at the college library fit the description. It seemed that nobody other than her knew about _The Labyrinth's_ existence. It had been out of print for years and so far as she knew she had one of the very few copies left in the world.

She slumped against the wall next to the school's payphone that she'd used to contact the publishing company that had printed _The Labyrinth_ only to find that nobody who had worked on the book seemed to work there anymore, or know anything about A.C. Harbinger. Sarah was quickly running out of ideas and she didn't feel good today. She'd kept having those haunting dreams from which that horribly familiar voice beckoned to her, and she'd awake with her heart acting up again. The constant intake of pills was robbing her of her energy and any traces of a good mood.

There wasn't a lot of time. What if she lost her chance to speak to the author already? What if A.C. Harbinger lived in another country now, or if they had passed away or (Sarah's stomach jolted at the thought) they'd discovered that the world they'd written about had been very real? There wasn't any way of knowing. She'd long given up on trying to make it to the deadline of her stupid report and was now entirely focused on finding that author and trying to get rid of these horrible dreams and constant heart problems.

Irritated, resigned, and drained of energy, Sarah walked over to the school's food court and decided to get something to drink. Ever since she was fifteen, she'd had to avoid anything that may damage her heart any further. Her stepmother had taken everything to the extreme, keeping her on a strict diet of "heart healthy" food and the like. One of the reasons that she'd been keen to move out, to be honest. All of the relatives she'd lived with ever since were careful not to let her relax too much and risk another heart attack, but they weren't as uptight as Irene had been.

Sarah ordered a diet coke, something that was technically breaking the rules, but not as horribly as real coke would have, and sat down at a table by herself to drink it. She didn't know how long she could keep living like this. If only she could just find what she was looking for. It would give her some closure, at least. The question of whether the author could really help her was all she had left. She didn't want to keep hearing that voice and keep suffering these intolerable attacks. She craved the normality she'd once had before that fateful night when she'd discovered another world. It seemed to be the only way she could let go.

As she sat there by herself, she failed to notice someone coming right for her. It was only when the person sat down next to her did she look up from her broodings and smiled at the sight of a familiar face.

"Hi Jackie," said Sarah, beaming.

"Hey, girl," said Jackie. She was Matt's girlfriend, on and off, and a friendly person despite what she may appear. She had platinum hair that was spiky and with four piercing in each ear. She wore all leather and heavy make-up. Sarah teased her about being stuck in the 80's, but she took it well. Jackie was kind despite her tough appearance, and it was a pleasure to talk to her.

"What brings you to here?" said Sarah, gesturing around the food court.

"Looking for you," said Jackie. "I've heard that you're looking for someone to interview for your journalism class."

"Yeah," said Sarah, sadly. "I have someone in mind, but I can't find him for the life of me."

"What's his name?" Jackie asked, interestedly.

"A.C. Harbinger," said Sarah. "He's a writer. Or, rather, he wrote a book once and I've been trying to figure out who and where he is but with no success."

"Bad luck," said Jackie. "What's this guy done that's so important anyway? I thought they were supposed to be involved with your life somehow."

"Yeah," said Sarah. "I can't really explain it, but finding this guy is pretty important. I mean, y'know, for the assignment," she added, lamely.

"Well, I hope you find the guy," said Jackie.

"Thanks," said Sarah, placing a hand over her weak heart. "I hope I find him too."

* * *

The search for A. C. Harbinger went on without success for a two solid weeks. Sarah had tried a lot of different leads that she thought would take her to the strange author, yet everything she tried fell short. Meanwhile, her dreams were getting more vivid, the Goblin King's voice calling out to her again and again, and each dream brought more and more chest pains. She was starting to take her medicines more than she should to keep from having another heart attack and the side effects of the drugs was making it hard to concentrate on her classes.

Just as things were starting to get to the point where Sarah was sure she was going to have to move again did she finally get a breakthrough with finding Harbinger. She'd received a letter from somebody who worked at the publishing office where _The Labyrinth_had been printed had known A.C. Harbinger's real name. Delighted, Sarah opened the letter and discovered just what she was looking for. The author's true name was Arthur Finchly and at the time when he was publishing the book, he'd been living in a small town called Clarence.

_Perfect!_Sarah thought, happily. Clarence was a two-and-a-half hour drive from her school. She could look him up in the yellow pages and find out where he lived over the weekend. Everything was falling into place at last. True, the odds that Arthur Finchly was still living in Clarence were slim, but this was all she had going for her. She had to try.

Sarah packed her bags on Friday night for an overnight trip in the morning. She would probably stay at a hotel or something then come home before classes on Monday. With any luck, the mystery of A.C. Harbinger or Arthur Finchly would be solved. She'd just slammed her suitcase shut when someone knocked on the door to her dorm.

"Come in," said Sarah. It was Matt and Jackie.

"Hey, Sar," said Matt. "What's with the suitcase? You going somewhere?"

"Yeah," said Sarah. "I finally found that person I was going to interview for my journalism class. I just hope that he's willing to talk to me."

"That's great," said Jackie. "But where does he live? Germany?"

"In a town called Clarence a couple hours from here," said Sarah, simply. "I was just going to go over the weekend so I don't miss anything. And they let me have the time off work, since I told them it was for my education."

"All this for some stupid project?" said Matt, incredulously. "Sarah, give it a rest. Just interview some family member and call it good. That's what, like, everyone else in that class will do, trust me."

"This is important to me, Matt," said Sarah. "I want to do this. It isn't solely about the report. I really want to meet this guy."

"Well if it's that important to you," said Matt, heavily. "Y'know, he's probably eighty years old and senile to a fault."

"I won't know until I get there," said Sarah, crossly. "Besides, I could do with getting out of this place for awhile. I need to move, go places, y'know."

"Ah," said Jackie, teasingly. "'Free bird Sarah' needs to get moving again. Don't ask her to stay in one place for she does what she wants and there ain't nobody who can stop her!"

"She goes wherever the next relative will take her," said Matt, looking off dreamily. "Mooching off relatives since 1989!"

"Oh shut up, both of you!" snapped Sarah as Jackie and Matt laughed. "I do not mooch! I always pay rent and I pay it on time! And none of the family members I've stayed with have complained once about having me there."

"Sweets, we're joking with you," said Matt, grinning. "Still, you do move around a lot. Either you can't get no satisfaction, as Mick Jagger once said, or you're afraid of commitment."

"She _did_ break up with Chuck the other day," said Jackie. "But I don't blame you for that."

"It isn't a commitment issue," said Sarah, sternly. "I just . . . don't like staying in once place for too long. It's a big world and I wanna see it. And as for Chuck, he's such a jerk, I'm so much better off without him."

"I can't argue with that," said Jackie, nodding.

"Yeah, you've got a point," said Matt. "Well, we'll leave you to it. I hope you find your senile author and get the information you need for your oh-so-important assignment."

"Nice, Matt," said Sarah, rolling her eyes.

* * *

_. . . Sarah . . . Sarah . . . Sarah . . . please, Sarah . . ._

Sarah woke as fast as she possibly could, her weak heart pounding terribly as it dealt with the power of the dream. Getting out of bed and popping her pills into her mouth to ease her jumpy heart, Sarah felt like this was getting out of hand. She needed to get _his _voice out of her head or else she'd have another heart attack and soon.

Tomorrow, she would go and seek out A.C. Harbinger. Hopefully, _hopefully,_ he would have the answers she was looking for. All she knew was that she could keep going on being scared like this. She couldn't continue living in fear.

Sarah hadn't been to her father's house in seven years. They came to visit her sometimes, when she was still living with relatives, but she hadn't set foot in the house where she grew up. She didn't dare go, because that was where he'd found her the first time. He'd been there, and she was sure that he could find her there again.

_I have to get away_, Sarah thought, dully. _I can't live my life like this anymore. I just hope A.C. Harbinger has the answers I need. If this keeps up, who knows what'll happen. I don't want to keep living like a coward!_

* * *

The drive to Clarence was a nice one. After enduring all those years of uneasy, sleepless nights, Sarah's body was somewhat used to running on a lack of sleep. The motion of the car was both soothing yet it kept her awake. She turned her radio up to full volume and sang along loudly to various rock songs that came onto the stations she was listening to. Before long, just as the station she was listening to was nearing the end of playing all of Michael Jackson's greatest hits in alphabetical order, she entered the tiny town and looked around. It was mostly a neat little town, but some of the shops and buildings were out of date and a bit shabby. According to the sign she'd read upon entering, it had a population of only 11,586.

Sarah found a fairly modern-looking Best Western and booked a room for that night. Then she took her car to a gas station to fill up her nearly empty gas tank and look for a payphone to look for the name 'Finchly'. As the attendant at the station dealt with her car, Sarah found a cheap little phone booth with a Yellow Pages dangling from it. She flipped through the 'F's in the phone book and trying to find the name she was looking for, humming the last Michael Jackson song she'd heard in the car ('The Way You Make Me Feel').

"Finchly," she murmured under her breath. "Finchly. Finchly."

"You lookin' for Finchly?" asked the station attendant, an acne-ridden twenty-two year old, when he came over to hand Sarah her receipt.

"Yes," said Sarah, relieved. "Do you know him?"

"Sure," said the attendant. "Everybody knows everybody here. Don't know what a pretty lil' thing like you are doin' looking for that guy, though."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, puzzled.

"Finchly's a kook," said the attendant, with a little laugh and a shrug. "Everybody knows that. Just like his old man."

"Well, I think I'll see for myself," said Sarah. "Is his number in here?"

"Should be," said the attendant, shrugging again, and he slouched off.

Sarah snorted and turned her attention back to the phone book. Finally, she came across the name 'Finchly'. It was the only one in the 'F' column, so Sarah immediately punched the phone number and, after three rings, some picked up.

"Hello?" said a weary male voice on the other end.

"Hello," replied Sarah, nervously. "Is this the Finchly residence?"

"Yes, it is," said the voice. "How may I help you?"

"Um," Sarah was a little stuck. Now that she was finally here, about to speak to the infamous author she'd been searching for, it was a little hard to think of what to say. "Well, er, my name is Sarah Williams and I'm a student at the college over in the next town."

"Oh," the voice sounded rather surprised. "Well, what can I do for you, Miss Williams?"

"Er, I was wondering," Sarah took a deep, quiet breath. "If I could have a quick interview with Mr. Arthur Finchly? He's the author known as A.C. Harbinger, isn't he? I was hoping to be able to talk to him for a project. Do you think that would be alright?"

There was no immediate reply from the other end of the phone for a few minutes. Sarah waited anxiously for the person on the other end to say something, but he remained silent until he finally let out a sad breath into the mouthpiece of the phone.

"I'm very sorry," he said, gloomily. "I know you must have come a very long way, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you. You see, Arthur Finchly was my father and, yes, his penname as an author was indeed A.C. Harbinger. It's just that . . . well . . . my father's been dead for seven years."

**Ying-Fa: Sorry for the wait. I haven't been feeling well. But never fear, I am now fiddle as a fit!**

**Nagini-chan: Wait! What?!**

**Ying-Fa: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed so far. Please let me know anything you like, dislike, any mistakes, whatever. Reviews and feedback is always appreciated.**


	4. The Father's Follower

**Ying-Fa: Thank you so much, all my lovely reviewers and 'favorite'-ers! Here is the next chapter for you!**

Sarah froze. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard on the phone. "He . . . he's dead?"

"Yes," said the man on the other line. "He died seven years ago, I'm afraid."

"I . . . I'm so very sorry," said Sarah, still very shocked and no longer sure as to what she was supposed to do or say.

"No, no, it's alright," said the man. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I know it must have been a very great inconvenience for you to have come all this way only to be disappointed."

"It . . . that's alright," said Sarah, dazed. "Well, thank you for your time."

"Ah, well, ah!" said the other voice, quickly. "Well, I'd, er, hate for you to go home empty-handed. Maybe there's something I can do to help you."

"Oh, no that's alright, I . . ."

"No, seriously," said the voice, now sounding eager to keep her on the phone. "Why don't you interview me? Nobody knew my father like I did, trust me. I can give you the information for your report. How does that sound?"

"Um," said Sarah. Truth be told, now that she knew that A.C. Harbinger was forever out of her reach, she didn't want to be in this town a moment longer than she had too. Still, it would be very rude of her to decline when this man, Harbinger's son, wanted to help her. At the very least, she would get her stupid assignment done. The mystery of the Goblin King and the Labyrinth, however, would probably elude her forever.

"That … would be nice," said Sarah, dully. "That's very kind of you. When would you like me to come over?"

"Oh, today is fine," said the man, excitedly. "We can talk about whatever it is you like about my father and his works. I know it's nothing compared to actually talking to him, but I won't let you down."

"Thank you very much," said Sarah, feeling drained of energy. Nevertheless, she wrote down the Finchly's address and started driving over town to look for it. She found that it was right in the middle of town, right across the street from a large shopping district and Sarah could believe anyone would want to live in such a noisy place. The neighborhood looked a little rough, and the house was small with two stories and peeling brown paint. The state of the decrepit little house surprised her. She'd been expecting the house where an author once lived to be, well, a bit more grand. Nevertheless, she pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car.

There was very little grass in the yard and what had survived was brown and parched in clumps all over the ground. There were a few sad little garden gnomes thrown together in a pile of dirt that Sarah suspected had once housed a flower or herb garden and the overall appearance of the place was simply dismal. Sarah reached the front door and knocked rather hesitantly.

After a few moments, a young man answered the door. He was skinny with curly, reddish-brown hair and glasses perched on his nose. He had wide front teeth and a pock-marked face that gave him the look of a weirdo teenager, but he had to be at least thirty.

"Oh, hello," he said. "You must be the Miss Williams."

"Yeah, that's me," said Sarah, smiling and holding out her hand politely.

The man shook it. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Carl Finchly. As I told you on the phone, Arthur Finchly was my father. Wow, you are really pretty."

Sarah blinked at him. Carl blushed.

"Y'know that last part sounded a lot better in my head," he said lamely. "Urgh, don't let my stupidity scare you away. Oh, please come in."

Carl stepped aside and Sarah entered. One look and Sarah would have thought the house belonged to a stuffy, elderly woman rather than such a young man. There were plywood walls and shag carpets and antique-looking furniture, dusty bookshelves and a large cabinet with all sorts of china displayed in it.

"Sit down, sit down," Carl insisted, waving his arm in an old-fashioned armchair. Sarah took the invitation and sat. "So, let's get started. What did you want to know about my father? It's odd, someone showing up out of the blue asking for information about him. It took six months to even get him a spot in the obituary columns in the local paper."

"Oh, well," said Sarah, nervously. "I've just always wanted to talk to him," she reached into her purse and pulled out her old, battered copy of _The Labyrinth_. "He wrote my favorite book."

Carl looked at the book and blinked. "May I see that?" he asked, sounding almost in awe.

Sarah nodded and handed the book to him. Carl stared at it as if she'd just handed him the handle of the Ark of the Covenant. "I don't believe it," he said, breathlessly. "Where on earth did you get this? This book's been out of print for years!"

"My mother gave it to me when I was, oh, ten or eleven years old," said Sarah, unsure as to why he was so surprised. "She found it at a garage sale or something. Is that unusual?"

"Well, yes," said Carl. "This book was my father's greatest achievement. I remember him working on it at all hours of the day, but it sold terribly. There were only just over five hundred copies sold."

"Oh," said Sarah, sadly. It was depressing to hear that _The Labyrinth_ hadn't been appreciated as it should have been, but also knowing that it was real, it was probably better that nobody knew of it.

"Yes," said Carl, still examining the book. "Father was most excited about this book. He spent hours and hours working on it. It's only understandable, considering that the Goblin King happened to be my father's absolute favorite among the Agents of Chaos."

Sarah lifted her eyes and stared at him. "The what?"

Carl looked up from the book, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "You don't know about the Agents of Chaos? Oh, my dear woman, they're the very basis for this story! Here, hold on a second."

Carl put _The Labyrinth_ down onto a small coffee table and went over to the dusty bookshelves and started pulling down volumes. "My father was an avid researcher of legends and myths," he said as he worked. "He was absolutely fascinated about stories of a world that's a counterpart of this one. It was referred to as the World of Opposite Grounds or, more commonly, the Underground."

"I see," said Sarah, starting to become interested herself. "Your father studied this place?"

"Every chance he got," said Carl, sitting down onto an old loveseat and flipping through pages. "The only problem is, the stories of the Underground are pretty scarce. My father went everywhere he could looking for research done on these tales. He dug so deep, in fact, that he discovered the most wonderful tales that nobody ever knew about before. I'm talking, of course, about Chaos and his malevolent Agents."

"What?" said Sarah, puzzled. "Chaos is . . . a person?"

"Well, nobody is entirely sure as to who or what he is," said Carl, handing her one of the books and showing her a picture of a vicious-looking black monster with red eyes and black, bat-like wings that stood on clawed feet on a pile of human skulls. "His shape changes constantly but, according to legend, he was once a simple creature that roamed the earth like any human would. One day something happened. Nobody knows for sure what it was, but all of a sudden he became so evil that he was forever shunned by heaven and even hell didn't want him."

"Scary," said Sarah, staring at the picture.

"Very much so, yes," said Carl. "He wrecked havoc upon anybody who crossed him and quickly gained power. Of course, he was bound to find people who wanted a share in that power and, therefore, tried to offer their services. But he just killed them, he didn't want to share his power with anybody. Over time, however, he found seven followers and granted them power, wealth, glory, and made them all his most treasured servants. Those are the Agents of Chaos. Most of them are just as evil as Chaos himself."

"And the Goblin King is one of these Agents?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," said Carl. "He's one of the only Agents whose name we ever found. Jareth, the Goblin King, was the most fascinating of all the Agents in my father's eyes. That's why he was put into the story, but none of the others were."

"But why was your father so interested in him?" Sarah asked, wondering just what had prompted Arthur Finchly to write that book.

"Well, though Chaos let the Agents do pretty much whatever they wanted, they had only one rule that they must follow," said Carl. "That was to serve him, Chaos, endlessly and never forget that. But Father thought that Jareth, out of all the Agents, would be the one to break those rules. That's why he wrote _The Labyrinth_ in the first place."

"How so?" said Sarah, now more curious than ever.

"Well, the whole thing about the Princess and her wished away brother is all completely fictional," said Carl. "Agents of Chaos rarely ever traveled to our world but they might just show up if they are called upon. My father took that idea and thus formed the story of the downfall of the most cunning and mischievous of the Agents. Father had him fall in love with the princess, and therefore, in order for him to keep his contract with Chaos and save himself from retribution, he must possess her. If he could own her like a property, then he would both have the one he desired and keep peace with Chaos. But the princess denied him power over her and thus his hold was destroyed. The Agents of Chaos must be as all-powerful as Chaos himself, for what reasons nobody knows for sure. For the princess to have denied Jareth power over her, it would ultimately lead to his destruction."

Sarah sat in silence after this long tale. Floods of thoughts came pouring into her mind. So A.C. Harbinger (or Arthur Finchly) had never known that the story would one day come true. Was it possible that the Goblin King she'd met long ago was, indeed, the one that Carl was telling her about? Was he really an Agent of Chaos? If he was, was it true that he had been punished for being unable to enslave her? But if that was the case, how was his voice still plaguing her mind whenever she tried to get a peaceful night's sleep? Had he really been the cause of her heart attack at all?

After several seconds of silence from Sarah, Carl's excited smile slid from his face and he hung his head and closed his book. "But I guess all this stuff is probably really boring for you to hear," he said, dully. "You came to talk about Dad and not this stuff."

"Oh no, not at all," said Sarah, earnestly. "I'm very interested! I was hoping I would learn more about why he wrote the story. So, the princess who wished her brother away . . . that was all made up?"

"Yes," said Carl, who know looked more cheerful now that he knew he wasn't boring his audience. "It was mostly just Dad's creativity. He thought it would be fascinating to try and get into the head of an Agent while facing such a dilemma. He loved the tales of the Agents and thought he could write all about them. Sadly, the story didn't go very far. _The Labyrinth_ didn't sell well at all and in the end Dad . . ."

Carl trailed off, looking sad again.

"What?" Sarah asked. "What happened?"

"Dad just couldn't take his mind off the stories," said Carl. "He became obsessed with them. He was almost convinced . . . but, um . . ."

"Convinced of what?" Sarah prompted, now almost dying for information.

"He was starting to believe that the Underground was actually real," said Carl, with an almost apologetic half-smile. "His research became his whole life. He was desperate to find a way, well, to actually _get_ there. To _find_ the Underground as if, y'know, it were a real place. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped . . . a lot of stuff. In the end, his so-called 'friends' got 'concerned' for him and . . . committed him."

"No!" Sarah gasped.

Carl nodded sadly. "My dad died from malnutrition at the local psychiatric ward seven years ago. I came home from Stanford to take care of the house and everything. I'm his only son and since mom died when I was four, I got everything when he died. I've been taking classes at home just to make sure the stupid money-sharks in this forsaken town don't try to get their hands on any of Dad's stuff."

There was a long stretch of silence following this statement. Sarah was positively shocked. How could anybody be so cruel? Indeed, Arthur Finchly got carried away in his need for knowledge about the Underground. From what it sounded like, he was getting very, very close to learning the truth. That the Underground _did_ exist and that the Agents he was so fascinated by, or at least just the Goblin King, were real. Sarah's insides gave a horrified pang when she thought of what might become of _her_ if she ever dared to share her story with the rest of the world.

"Carl," she said, slowly. "I . . . I'm just so sorry. I had no idea."

"That's okay," said Carl, smiling rather sadly. "There was no way you could have known. I don't mind. It's just that . . . sometimes . . ."

Carl hesitated for a few seconds and Sarah waited anxiously for what he was about to say next. Minutes passed, however, and just when Sarah thought he wasn't going to finish his sentence did he speak again.

"Sometimes . . . I find myself daring to think . . . that he was _right._"

"Pardon?" said Sarah, confused.

"My dad was right," Carl repeated. "He was right about, y'know, the Underground and Chaos and the Agents and . . . all of it. There was a lot of convincing folklore and I always went with him on his explorations when he went to search for new evidence. At times the Underground seemed a mere wish away, just like in his story. But," he cast Sarah a nervous glance and lowered his head. "It's impossible, I know. There's no such thing as other worlds or goblins or faeries or magic or any of that stuff." He'd said this last bit in a weary, sarcastic voice.

Sarah stared at the ground and started to chew her lip. Did she dare speak openly with Carl? He'd come clean about his suspicions and his belief in the Underground while she sat here, holding back on what she knew. It seemed, to her at least, that Carl seemed like a sincere person, even if he was a bit nerdy. Finally, her weak heart pounding warningly in her chest, Sarah broke the silence.

"Carl, what if I told you that it _was_ real?"

Carl looked up at her, puzzled. Sarah kept her head down.

"The Underground is real, Carl," she said, staring at the floor. "The Labyrinth and the Goblin King are real, at least. I saw them, Carl, I was there. The girl in your father's story . . . was me. I'm the girl who wished her brother to the goblins. I really went there. I was there, Carl. I saw it all."

**Ying-Fa: Ooh! How will Carl respond now that Sarah has come clean? Find out next month!**

**Nagini-chan: NEXT MONTH!**

**Ying-Fa: I kid, I kid! I'll update sooner than that. However, in the meantime I look forward to many reviews that will make me want to update sooner. Thank you very much.**


	5. The Wise Herbologist

Sarah and Carl sat in silence for a very, very long time. Sarah's heart was pounding uncomfortably in her chest, but Sarah didn't want put her hand up to it. She didn't want to move at all for fear of what Carl's reaction would be. They might have been sitting there for fifty years, though it couldn't have been more than two minutes before Sarah finally put her face in her hands.

"I know!" she wailed. "I know it sounds crazy! I know I must sound like a total lunatic, but I swear to you that it's true! I _have_ been there! I _saw_ it! I saw everything! I've never told anybody this before now but I thought that I could tell you because you seem to be the only person in the entire world who could _possibly_ believe me! I must seem like a total nutcase and I'm sorry I wasted your time."

Sarah stood up and grabbed her purse and made to storm out of the house, humiliated and lost. But . . .

"No! Wait!" Carl cried. "Sarah! Please don't go! Come back!"

Sarah turned and looked at Carl with devastated eyes, but he looked at her with absolute admiration. It was like he was looking at something so wonderful he could hardly believe it truly existed.

"Y-you mean it?" he asked, timidly. "You . . . you've really been there?" Sarah sniffed and nodded. "HA!"

Before she could stop him, Carl wrapped his arms and hugged her so tightly that she was lifted up off her feet. "I knew it!" he cried, oblivious to Sarah's struggles. "I knew it! I knew I couldn't be the only one! I knew it was real! I had to be real. Oh, Dad, we're not alone! It's true, Dad, it's really true!"

"C-Ca . . . rl," Sarah gasped. "Air . . . is becoming . . . an option!"

"Oh, whoops," said Carl, letting her go. "Sorry, I just can't believe it! I _knew_ Dad and I couldn't be the only ones! I knew there had to be some truth! I knew it was true!"

"Yes, yes," said Sarah, uneasily. Her heart was pounding very fast in her chest and she sat back down trying to control her breathing. "It's true. It's all true."

"I can't believe this!" said Carl, who seemed beside himself with joy. "I am just thrilled! The Underground exists, just like Dad thought. Oh, if I could only rub it in the faces of those stupid social workers and those money thieves who were after his stuff. They'll rue the day they put my father away, I promise that! They'll . . . are you alright?"

Carl had only just noticed that Sarah was having trouble. She nodded as she rummaged through her purse for her pills. They were the only things that helped immediately when her heart started acting up like this. "I'm . . . I'm fine," she wheezed. "Um . . . but could you . . . please . . . a-a glass of . . . water?"

"Oh! Oh, of course!" said Carl, hurrying out of the room. A few moments later, after Sarah had retrieved her pills, he came rushing back in with a tall glass of water.

"Thank you," said Sarah, popping the pills into her mouth and using the water to wash them down. "Sorry you had to see that."

"It's alright," said Carl, eyeing her with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Sarah, feeling a bit embarrassed about the whole thing. "I just have a bad heart is all."

"Oh," said Carl. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine, really," said Sarah. "I'm used to it. It's not usually a problem, but it tends to act up when I'm least expecting it."

"I see," said Carl. "Well, getting back to what we were talking about, you've actually _been_ there?"

"Yes," said Sarah, her heart now calming down. "I have. It was just like in your father's book."

"How did it happen?" Carl demanded, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Tell me everything."

And so, Sarah told him everything she could remember about her adventure a decade ago. It was actually pretty relieving to tell her story in detail to another person, after holding it in for so long. She described how she had called the goblins to come for Toby and they'd answered her request. She told him about the Goblin King coming to her and making the deal of defeating the Labyrinth in order to get her brother back. She told him about Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus. She told him about the oubliette, the Bog of Eternal Stench, the Junkyard, the Goblin City, and everything she could think of. All while she spoke, her uneasy heart beat warningly in her chest as if to tell her not to disclose too much.

Finally, as Sarah finally reached the part about the final confrontation with the Goblin King, her heart gave such a painful throb that she had to stop. She clutched at her heart and forced herself to remain calm. Carl, who had been listening wordlessly all while she spoke, his mouth hanging open, stood up and walked over to her. "Oh no! Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"It's . . . my . . . heart," Sarah gasped. "It's been like this . . . ever since . . . I got back from the . . . Underground. I had my first . . . heart attack at fifteen years old. I've had this . . . condition . . . ever since."

"Seriously?" said Carl. "Hm, I wonder why that is."

"That's another reason that I wanted to talk to your father about this," said Sarah, heavily. "I thought he might know how to put an end to my heart attacks if they really are the work of something down in the Underground."

"Hm," said Carl again, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I don't think Dad ever knew anything like that. But, I think I might know somebody who does know a way to put an end to these attacks."

"Really?" said Sarah, startled. "You do?"

"Yeah," said Carl. "Her name is Agaea. She lives here in town. She's kind of a . . . well, she's a . . . um, she calls herself a herbologist."

"Herbologist?" said Sarah. "What is that?"

"Just someone who studies special herbs and plants and uses them to cure ailments instead of using modern medicines," said Carl, looking a bit embarrassed. "At least that's how she describes it. It works pretty well, honestly. I actually got rid of my asthma thanks to her. Maybe you should talk to her."

Sarah lowered her eyes to the ground. She'd never thought of trying to cure her heart conditions like that. She'd never tried anything outside of modern medicine. Perhaps asking her wouldn't be such a bad idea. And since Sarah was already here in this town anyway, so she might as well give it a shot.

"That actually sounds like a really good idea," said Sarah, thankfully. "Could you tell me where she lives?"

"Actually, I was heading over there later today myself," said Carl. "I needed to stalk up on some tablets. You could follow me over there now, if you like."

"Great," said Sarah. "Lead the way."

About ten minutes later, Sarah was following Carl in his old, battered Ford down the streets of town. Sarah noticed as she drove that the houses were growing smaller and further apart. Trees grew in front of these smaller houses, making them shaded and harder to see. Before long, just when Sarah thought they were about to leave the town completely, they came upon a tiny, cottage-like house that was a good twenty yards away from any other building.

Sarah and Carl pulled their cars into the dusty driveway and Sarah caught a good look at the house. Four large trees surrounded it at the corners, showering it in shadows. The front of the house was covered in honeysuckle and huge bushes of strange flowers. A large herb garden was nestled under one window. Sarah couldn't help thinking that, despite the seclusion and the shadowy trees, the place looked wonderfully quaint.

Sarah followed Carl onto the front porch and Carl rang the door bell. Sarah noticed a small plaque above the door. It was painted purple with little gold stars and in gold writing it said:

_"Where you believe there is magic,_

_You will find it."_

Sarah stared at the little saying, pondering when suddenly the door creaked open.

"Carl! Hello again. Oh, and who is this?"

Tearing her eyes away from the plaque, Sarah looked over at the woman standing in the doorway. The woman looked about twenty-seven years old and had a round, cheery face with elbow-length blonde hair. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, black velvet top and black denim jeans. A pointed crystal necklace was resting gently against her chest and two silver earrings, one shaped like a star and one like a crescent moon, dangled from her earlobes.

"Hello, Agaea," said Carl, smiling kindly at her. "I'm just here for a restock. But, this is Sarah. She's just arrived in town and I suggested that she see you. She has heart problems and we were wondering if you could help." He said all of this rather fast.

"Heart problems?" said Agaea, her almond-shaped eyes looking carefully over Sarah. Sarah suddenly felt very awkward. "Hm, well, come on in and let's take a look. I'll see what I can find."

Agaea led her two guests into her house. It was dark inside, but sparkly. Multitudes of glass phials filled with different plants were stacked upon every flat service in the small room. A bookshelf along one end was full of them, a long row was stacked on top of a fireplace, a coffee table, an end table and everywhere else the could be squeezed onto. Where there weren't any phials, there were different candles that were all lit and filled the room with a hot, perfume-y air.

"Sit down," said Agaea, politely. She had a high, tinkering voice that made Sarah think it should belong to a little girl. Sarah sat down onto the overstuffed sofa Agaea had gestured to and Carl sat down next to her. Agaea seated herself into a puffy armchair directly across from the couch and looked them both over.

"Well then," said Agaea. "What can I do for you?"

"Um," said Sarah, looking around at the room. She could tell, by now, just what kind of person Agaea was and couldn't help having second thoughts about asking her for help. "It's . . . my heart. I've had problems with it since I was fifteen years old."

"My," said Agaea, distantly. "I've never heard of someone having a heart condition so young before. But then again, you have the 'air' about you. I suppose I can't be too surprised that this case is a little bit different."

"I have . . . what? Excuse me?"

"There's an 'air' about you," Agaea repeated. "Carl, I believe this woman must have been to, or at least seen, the other realm your father was so fascinated about."

Sarah gaped at her. "How do you know about the Underground?"

"Oh, just what I've heard and read about in Mr. Harbinger's book and his research," said Agaea, simply. "But, mystics such as myself do tend to have strong beliefs in another world. One that isn't exactly beyond this one, but adjacent to it. Now, if you'll permit me …"

Agaea slid off her armchair and came over to kneel in front of Sarah. She lifted her hands to Sarah's face and placed her fingertips just underneath Sarah's jaw. "I would like you to please relax as best as you can. Close your eyes and focus on breathing very slowly, okay?"

Sarah closed her eyes and did as she was told. It wasn't very easy, trying to be calm while a total stranger, and a questionable one at that, was touching her face. Still, she forced herself not to focus on Agaea's tickling fingertips and focused on her breathing. Agaea's hands soon left Sarah's jaw but Sarah could still sense her hands were moving down her neck and over her shoulders. Her hands passed all over Sarah's upper body, passed over but never touching her. After a few moments, as Agaea's hands passed over Sarah's heart, Agaea finally spoke.

"Hm," she muttered. "Very interesting. Alright, you may open your eyes now Sarah."

Sarah opened her eyes and saw that Agaea's eyes were lowered to the ground in thought. "What's the matter?" Sarah asked, a little nervously.

"It seems there's some kind of force that's wrapped itself around your heart," said Agaea simply.

"F-force?" stammered Sarah. "Like what?"

"I'm not sure," said Agaea. "Sarah, while you journeyed to this other world, did you meet anyone with any kind of great power? A sorcerer, perhaps? Or something of the sort?"

Sarah and Carl exchanged a glance. "Yes," said Sarah. "The Goblin King. So has he, I don't know, cursed me or something?"

"No, this is no curse," said Agaea, frowning in thought. "It isn't a negative force. It wasn't bestowed upon you to do you harm. It's strange. It's like this force has . . . clung to you as if for safety. It's holding onto you as if for dear life. It's using your heart as an anchor to keep itself safe. So, it's as if your heart is beating, not only for itself, but also for this force. Naturally, the strain would be enough to give anybody heart trouble."

"So, what do I do?" Sarah asked, confused but refusing to let it show.

"Well, have you had any contact with this Goblin King since your time in his world?" asked Agaea. "Has he tried to contact you at all in the time since you left?"

Sarah suddenly remembered her dreams. "I . . . don't know," she said. "I've been having . . . these dreams. It's just his voice. I hear his voice in my head while I sleep, but I've never seen his face or anything."

"And what has he said?"

"Nothing. Just my name. Over and over again."

"Hm," said Agaea, again. "Sounds like you must communicate with this person."

She stood up and started uncorking several of the phials around the room. She mixed several of the plants inside into a bowl, crushed them up with a pestle, and dumped the resulting powder into a small bag. She then grabbed an unlit blue candle from a shelf and walked back over to Sarah.

"Tonight, before you go to bed, I want you to make a tea from these herbs and drink it," Agaea instructed. "These herbs will protect your heart and strengthen it so that it can control the force around it. Also, light this candle. The fumes will allow you to fall into a deep, untroubled sleep but also keep your subconscious mind sharp so that you will be able to commune with this Goblin King. Just be very careful, Sarah. If this man is truly trying to cause you harm and is trying to harm you through the dream, try and remember to spin around and open your eyes. This will wake yourself up. Come back tomorrow and tell me how it works."

**Ying-Fa: Here we are, ladies and gentleman! Please, tell me what you think. I apologize if there is any unhappiness, but updates may take a little longer than usual over the holidays. I swear, however, that I will try to remain as diligent as possible. I hope that you will all continue to grace me with these marvelous reviews and keep my writing mojo flowing!**

**Nagini-chan: Happy holidays, every one!**


	6. The Blue Candle

Sarah paced her hotel room, waiting for the cheap coffee machine by the sink to tell her that the water inside was hot enough to make tea. She felt anxious about what she was about to do. Would she really be able to talk to the Goblin King in her dreams? The thought made her nervous. According to Agaea, she'd been right about him being the cause of her heart problems but apparently it wasn't supposed to hurt her. But then, what was going on? If this wasn't his revenge, what was it?

Sarah and Carl had left Agaea's house that afternoon with Sarah's "prescription" and just after she announced that she was going to her hotel, Carl hastily got her attention.

"Sarah, I know Agaea can seem a little bit creepy but she's really a smart lady," he said, looking panicky. "She's a lovely person and everything she does is 100 percent legal. The FDA has been to her place five times in as many years."

"Why?" Sarah asked, puzzled. "For what reasons?"

"It's the people in this town," grumbled Carl. "They don't like Agaea. They call her a witch and a Satan worshipper and all sorts of horrible things. She doesn't do any of those things. You can trust her, really."

Sarah knew that Carl had tried to comfort her about this whole thing, but Sarah couldn't help but wonder if his advice had only made things worse. She went back to her hotel and ordered some food, which brings us back to the present.

At long last, the coffee machine let out a loud BEEP and Sarah knew her water was ready. She was already showered and in her pajamas, ready to just go to bed and get this over with. It was only 9:45, but after the long day she'd had, she didn't mind how early it still was. She poured the steaming water into a large cup and gently added the contents of the tiny bag that Agaea had given her.

As Sarah watched, the hot water slowly seeped up the herbs until the water had turned into a dark mahogany. It had an odd, yet pleasant smell. A heady mixture of sandalwood, moss, oak, and what might have been lime. Sarah stirred it with a tiny spoon for a few seconds and began to sip. It tasted oddly sweet even thought Sarah hadn't added any sugar. At once, her jittery heart felt nicely calm and pumped easily inside her chest. She inhaled the fumes of the tea and suddenly felt a little drowsier. She drank her tea down to the dregs and looked around in the drawers of the hotel furniture for a box of matches.

Soon enough, she found a tiny box of cardboard matches and went over to the bedside table and lit the glistening blue candle. The moment it started to burn, Sarah's tiredness had reached its limits. Her limbs were heavy and all she wanted to do was curl up under the tightly tucked in covers and fall asleep. In minutes, she wrenched the sheets apart, slid into bed, and did just that.

* * *

_Sarah . . ._

There it was. She'd been expecting it this time. Though all around her was darkness, she could hear his voice. He was calling for her, like always. After ten years of fighting to escape that voice, her first instinct was to force herself to wake up and stop listening. But she knew why she was here. This time she had to listen to the voice. She forced her nerves to calm down and looked around in the darkness.

_Sarah . . . Sarah . . ._

"Here I am," Sarah tried to say, but her voice barely came out as a whisper. She tried to move through the darkness, tried to reply, but it was always impossible to do such things in dreams. Her voice stuck in her throat and her legs felt rooted to the dark ground.

But she wasn't about to give up. She suddenly felt like she was the bravest human being in all the world. She'd fight through the dream and figure out what they meant and why they were tormenting her, once and for all. She tried to move through the dark nothingness, trying to find the source of the voice, but it echoed everywhere and it was impossible to trace.

_Sarah . . . please, Sarah . . ._

"I-I-I'm-m h-hee-eere," Sarah called back, fighting ever harder against the invisible force holding her voice and legs back. She pressed onward, determined to find the answers that she sought. "I-I'm he-re."

_Sarah . . . Sarah . . . Sarah . . . ._

"I'm here!"

_Sarah?_

She'd finally done it. She'd fought the darkness and called out to the one who had been calling for her. He'd heard her, she could tell. But now it was time to get the answers she was after.

"I'm here," she repeated. "I'm here, Goblin King. I'm here now."

_Sarah? Is it truly . . .?_

"Yes," Sarah called back, nervously. She didn't know how long she had in the dream and she needed to set things straight. "It's me. You've been calling me a very long time. Tell me, what is it? What do you need to tell me?"

_Sarah, I . . . I don't have long. I cannot keep doing this much longer. I'm don't have much time before . . . it's over._

He spoke as if he was the one who was suffering heart problems for the past decade. Sarah felt curious and afraid. "What's wrong? What do you mean?"

_Listen to me, Sarah. I . . . I will pass away very soon._

"What? You . . . you're dying!?"

_My body is in agony . . . my power is breaking . . . my soul is growing weary . . . and my heart is a burden to the one who bears it . . ._

"Y-your soul? Your heart? Goblin King, what do you mean? I don't understand."

_You've gone through a great deal of suffering because of me. Haven't you, precious thing? Forgive me . . . I'm so sorry. At the very least I was able to have this moment. How I have longed to hear you voice again. My Sarah . . . ._

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Sarah's eyes snapped open and she sprang up out of bed. Her face was covered in sweat and her breathing was erratic, but her heart didn't harm her. It was beating fast, but she felt no pain. Agaea's tea seemed to be doing the trick. She looked over at the blue candle she'd lit before falling asleep. There was now only a tiny bit of melted wax at the bottom and the flame was about to die out.

Suddenly full of adrenaline, Sarah threw the covers off her and ran over to the table across the bed of her hotel room. She quickly grabbed the stationary and the pen that was sitting there as complimentary items and began writing down everything she remembered about the dream she just had. She needed to do it now while she still had everything word-for-word fresh in her mind.

"Body in agony, power is breaking, soul growing weary, heart is a burden to the one who bears it," she murmured as she wrote. She didn't even know the significance of these words. She would have to consult Agaea when she went back in the morning.

Once she was sure she got everything down that was important, she looked over at the clock. It was now four in the morning. She still had a few hours before she had to be anywhere, but she felt too restless and jittery to fall back to sleep. Instead, she turned on the hotel TV and started flipping through the early morning specials. She saw that the old, black-and-white _Psycho_ was on and she'd flipped to it just in time to catch the best part.

Her heart and body began to relax after a few minutes, but it was still difficult to concentrate on the movie's ill-fated heroine getting ready for the last shower of her life. Finally, after all these years, she'd made contact with the Goblin King again. It was nothing like she'd feared it would be. He'd sounded so . . . weak. So tired and ill. He'd been calling her name so desperately and he'd called her 'precious thing'. It made her feel uneasy. What did it all mean? Just when she thought she'd found a way to get her answers, a million more questions popped into her head.

Barely hearing the screeching violins and terrified screams coming from the television, Sarah looked down at the candle on her nightstand just in time to see the tiny flame flicker and die.

* * *

"Hm."

"Hm."

"Um? Hm."

Sarah sat silently in Agaea's house that afternoon with Carl and Agaea herself. The both of them were staring at the note that Sarah had scribbled down after her strange dream the previous night and now they were both frowning and 'hm'ing so much it was starting to drive Sarah crazy.

"Hm."

"Hm."

"Hmmmm."

"Ah hem!" Sarah coughed loudly, unable to handle the silence anymore. Carl and Agaea's heads snapped up to look at her. "If you guys have any ideas, would you mind sharing them with the class?"

"Oh," said Carl, flabbergasted. "I'm sorry, Sarah. Right, um, well it kinds sounds . . . well, Agaea what do you think?"

"It seems this King is in terrible turmoil," said Agaea at last. "Yet it sounds as if he is speaking of these things separately."

"Well, he is," said Sarah. "Talking about each of these . . . parts of him being unable to . . . live any longer."

"Yes," said Agaea. "But doesn't it sound like he's talking about them as if they are no longer apart of him?"

Sarah blinked. "That's impossible."

"Not really," said Carl. Both women turned their eyes to him. "I once heard my dad talking about a rare power that the Agents of Chaos can do. He called it, if I'm remembering correctly, Shattering oneself."

"Shattering?" said Sarah, confused.

"It's the ability to separate parts of you, give it a form, and hide it away," said Carl. "It renders you a whole lot weaker than you were before, but its something that you can do to keep a part of yourself safe or hidden."

"How so?" Sarah asked.

"Well, let's say you wanted all of something about you gone away so nobody could take it," said Carl. "Dad once read me a story about a scholar who was so afraid that his rival would steal his knowledge from him that he Shattered his wisdom from himself and hid it away from the rival forever."

"Really?" said Sarah, baffled at why on earth anybody would go to such lengths to protect something like that.

"Yeah," said Carl. "Sadly, with his wits no longer a part of him, he went insane and accidentally killed himself."

"Seriously?!"

"Yeah. He ran into a river, forgot that he didn't know how to swim anymore, and drowned."

"And what happened to . . . the part of him that he took away."

"It died with him," said Carl. "If any part of you dies, the rest of you goes with it. It's not a bit of magic that's widely practiced, unless you want to end up like the scholar. The best thing it can be used for is for keeping secrets."

"Indeed," said Agaea. "It appears your King wanted to keep something very secret indeed. It seems he's split himself into, not two, but four pieces. His heart, mind, and soul are separated and his body is all that's left."

"And at this rate, he'll die," said Sarah, feeling an odd pang of remorse. Her memories of the Goblin King weren't good ones, but the knowledge that he was suffering such a dreadful fate was painfully sad to hear.

"Yes," said Agaea. "This master of his, Chaos did you call him? It sounds as if he has got a hold on one of the pieces and is punishing it. If it suffers, the rest suffer."

"But what piece does he have?" Carl wondered aloud.

"I'm going to guess wildly and say his body," said Agaea. "It's the only part of himself that he can't transform or hide."

"Ah, you're right," said Carl.

"Listen," said Sarah. "I know this is all terribly fascinating, but what does all this have to do with my heart problems?"

Carl blushed and shrugged, unwilling to admit that he had no answers. Agaea, however, let out a high bell-like laugh.

"Oh, come now Sarah," she said, lightly. "You have been hearing his voice in your nightly visions, there is a peculiar force surrounding your heart, and you seem to have been the last person to see this King when last he was whole. What do you think it all means?"

Sarah froze and looked down at the ground. What did it all mean? This all couldn't have been caused because she'd told the Goblin King that he had no power over her, could it? She thought about him, splitting himself into pieces and spreading them as far away as possible. As she thought, she slowly raised her hand to her heart.

"Y-you don't think," she whispered, raising her eyes to Agaea. "It can't be . . ."

"Oh, I think it can, my dear," said Agaea, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling. "Your friend the Goblin King has attached one of his missing pieces to you. That explains everything."

"Wait! What!?" said Carl, looking from Agaea to Sarah in astonishment. "S-seriously? I . . . I didn't know that was possible! I never would have believed . . ."

"His heart, I think" said Agaea, as if Carl had never interrupted. "His heart is the force that is wrapped around yours, seeking protection from his deadly master. It seems he must have thought it would be safe with you. But it has given you these heart conditions. Your own heart is having trouble working for two all these years, and that is why it is a burden."

Sarah raised both hands to her chest, trembling with fear at the thought of somebody else's heart pounding within her along with her own. "W-what do I do? How do I . . . get rid of it?"

"I think you'll just have to give it back," said Agaea. "If we would return it to the King's body, then you will be released from the burden of carrying it and he will be one step closer to being whole again."

"But he's being punished by Chaos," said Carl. "None of us know how to reach the Underground! How on earth are we supposed to find the Goblin King and return his heart to him?"

Agaea blinked thoughtfully. "What is the date?" she asked.

Sarah and Carl exchanged a confused look at the abrupt changing of subjects. "Um, the 21st," said Carl. "Why do you ask?"

"The new moon is coming up, isn't it?" said Agaea, still looking up at the ceiling deep in thought. "It is often said that the veil between the worlds is sometimes weaker during certain times of the year. The new moon is one of them, as well as Beltane and the Winter Solstice. I think, therein, lies our chance of ending this mystery, dear Sarah. If we cannot go to him . . . we shall just have to bring him to us."

**Ying-Fa: Don't you just love a good cliffhanger for the holidays? Merry Christmas tomorrow everybody! Okay, this next once is gonna take some time, but leave your reviews and I'll be back as soon as possible. Thank you very much, one and all!**


	7. The Heart Returned

**Ying-Fa: Sorry about the wait. Holidays, you know how they can be. So you know, Agaea's chants are complete and utter gibberish. They mean nothing whatsoever, or else they're not supposed to. Enough yammering from me, here's the next chapter!**

Sarah had no choice but to leave Clarence the next day. She wanted desperately to stay and talk to Agaea about her plan to bring the Goblin King to their world, but she couldn't afford to stay away from her school and her job for too long. She took the two hour drive back to her college and returned to her dorm room plagued with visions of what she'd heard when she'd finally confronted Jareth in her dreams.

Classes and work couldn't wait for her mind to get back into gear, however. The barely workable life that she'd pieced together for herself had come back full force and she couldn't afford to dwell on her otherworldly problems for too long. Matt and Jackie had confronted her the day after she got back at a small coffee shop on campus and asked how the search for A.C. Harbinger went. Sarah told them roughly what had happened when she got to Clarence, but refrained from mentioning Agaea.

"So he's dead?" said Matt, unsentimentally. "That's too bad. Did the kid give you enough to do your report on?"

"Yeah, I think I have enough," said Sarah, whose mind couldn't be further from the ridiculous report. "He was really informative. I'm actually gonna go and talk to him again next weekend for a little more about his father and his life."

"Really?" Jackie said, putting on the tone of one preparing for teasing. "Is that really why you're going back or do you have another plan in mind?"

"What?" said Sarah, taken aback.

"I mean, do you want _information_ from this guy or . . ." she gave her hips a little shake. "Something _else_?"

"No!" Sarah said, laughing. "Man, you are impossible!"

"Well, if the guy's hot then what's stopping you?" said Jackie, giggling. Then she sighed. "That would be just . . . picturesque, y'know. You go on this search for your lifelong hero and, low and behold, he's got a drop dead gorgeous son about your age and one thing leads to another and . . ."

"Have you still been reading those trashy books with Fabio on the cover?" Matt asked, his eyebrow raised. "It sounds like you're getting those confused with real life again, Jackie."

"Yeah," said Sarah, shaking her head. "The guys in those stories don't exist. All the real world has to offer is guys like Chuck and Matt."

"Hey!" snapped Matt. Sarah laughed at him.

"Well, at least tell us if he was good looking or not," said Jackie, cheerfully.

Sarah thought about Carl for a second and then shrugged. "I don't know. He wasn't really my type. He was a nice guy though."

"Oh," said Jackie, nodding solemnly. "One of those 'nice personality' type guys, hm. Drag."

"Oh come on!" snapped Sarah.

"Well, what _is_ your type, Sar?" Matt asked. "Everybody could tell that you and Chuck would be a total disaster, but I can't help wondering just what it is that you _do_ like in a dude."

Sarah thought about it, then automatically wished she hadn't. If she dared started to list the characteristics she liked in a man, she usually found herself describing the same one who had been giving her nightmares for the past ten years. But the majority of the boys that she'd tried to date had something similar to Jareth. Most of them had blonde hair, several had blue eyes, some had thin faces and a very select few had that swaggering air of an aristocrat that Jareth had in such proportions. The problem was that none of them possessed _all_ of those traits and she'd always found herself disappointed. It had been particularly embarrassing to admit this when she still thought that Jareth was the one behind her heart attacks. Now, however . . .

"I don't really know," said Sarah, dully. "I guess I just don't have a type."

"Oh, trust me, sweetheart, you've got a type," said Jackie, wisely. "Everybody on this planet has a type. One day, you'll see, you'll come face-to-face with a guy who is so your type and everything will be spectacular."

"Thanks," said Sarah, rolling her eyes. "But I doubt it."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The week went agonizingly slow. She waited for news about Agaea's plan to summon Jareth, but for four days straight, she had nothing. Her nerves started to show in her performance in school and work. She'd forget things easier than she used to because she wasn't paying attention and had become prone to knocking things over. Finally, just before she left for work, she got a phone call from Carl.

"Agaea says the new moon is tonight," said Carl, sounding nervous. "She says she's going to summon Jareth tonight. You'd better get down here if you're gonna make it in time. Agaea said that we're gonna need you here, seeing as you have one of his missing pieces."

Sarah didn't need telling twice. She called her work and told them there was a family emergency and she wouldn't be able to come in that day. Then she packed in a rush, hurried to her car, and drove toward Clarence as quickly as she possibly could without getting pulled over.

The whole two and a half hour drive seemed absolutely unending. The sun was starting to go down and she had no idea of just what Agaea would have in store when she got there. She didn't want to admit it, seeing as Agaea was so nice, but there was something about her that was kind of creepy. Her ways and her beliefs bothered Sarah, even though she wished dearly to be unprejudiced. Agaea and Carl had to be the only two people in the world who would believe her about the Underground and what she had gone through there.

Then there was also what they were about to do. Could Agaea really bring Jareth here, to the Aboveground? It didn't seem possible. When Sarah thought back to when she left for the Labyrinth the first time, Jareth had taken her there in the blink of an eye. Would Agaea be able to do the same thing? Still, getting him back here and returning the piece of himself that he'd attatched to her heart seemed to be the only way she'd be able to escape her heart conditions once and for all. Sarah had once overheard her doctors tell her parents that they feared she might not live very long if she wasn't careful with her heart. If for no other reason, she had to go through with this scheme of Agaea's for her own life's sake. But, she argued with herself, that really wasn't the _only_ reason. She wanted to help Jareth escape whatever pain he was going through himself. He'd sounded so desperate in the dreams . . .

At long, long last Sarah arrived back in the small town of Clarence. She didn't bother finding a hotel right now. She headed straight back for Agaea's house on the outskirts of the town. Having only visited the town once before, it took a couple of wrong turns before she finally found it again. When she did at last, night had fallen and the black sky was dotted with stars. The stars were the only light out there, since tonight there was no moon. She locked her car and knocked on the front door. It was Carl who answered, looking pale and a bit panicky.

"She's in the kitchen," he said, breathlessly. "She said we'd start as soon as you got here."

"Okay," said Sarah, feeling nervous herself. She walked inside and found Agaea in the kitchen, right where Carl said she would be. Agaea was sitting on the counter with a small plate and a large slice of chocolate cake and was eating it slowly.

"Ah, Sarah, you're here," she said, beaming. Her white teeth were surprisingly stainless considering her choice of snack. "Would you like some cake?"

"Um, no thanks," said Sarah, who was feeling so jittery she was afraid she'd just throw up anything she tried to eat.

"Agaea, is this _really_ the time?" Carl asked, watching her as if her slowness was killing him.

"Chocolate helps calm me down before a ritual," said Agaea, simply. "Besides, we have all of tonight until the sun rises." She popped another chunk of cake into her mouth and slid the fork out from between her lips, completely clean. "But, since Sarah's arrived, we should get to business."

"What does my being here have to do with anything?" Sarah asked.

"We're going to try and summon his physical form from out of the Underground," said Agaea, taking another bite of cake. "We're going to do that using the piece of him that we already have at hand. His heart is attatched to yours, Sarah, and we're going to use it as a kind of magnet to pull him over to this world."

Sarah gulped. "Will that really . . . work?"

Agaea blinked at her and smiled kindly. "I haven't the faintest idea. Still, it ought to be fun to try."

Sarah and Carl exchanged a nervous glance as Agaea put her empty cake plate into the sink. "Well," said Agaea. "Let's get started."

Agaea lead Sarah and Carl into the next room where Sarah received a nervous jolt. There was a circle drawn in chalk in the middle of the room, and all around it were more of the strange candles that Agaea kept around her house. They were just like the blue one that Agaea had given to Sarah, except they were all different colors. Lit candles of white, red, green, orange, purple, brown, grey, pink, yellow, and inky black all surrounded the chalk circle, their flames flickering merrily on their wicks. Sarah was beginning to feel jittery. She didn't like this. Her uneasy heart was starting to pound uncomfortably at the sight of the circle. And after her heart had been so calm the past few days . . .

Agaea then stationed herself, Sarah, and Carl around the circle in a triangle formation gave Sarah one of the red candles to hold in her hands.

"Red draws the attention from those of another world," Agaea explained. "This way it'll know where the heart is."

Sarah nodded, unsure if she could trust herself with speaking, lest she throw up in the chalk circle. Agaea went over and handed Carl a pink candle. "For protection," she said. She then went into her spot, never stepping into the circle. She then got to her knees, stretched out her arms, closed her eyes, and bowed her head.

"I'm going to need total and complete silence, please," she said. "No matter how alarming things get, I'm going to ask the both of you to refrain from speaking."

Sarah and Carl glanced at each other. Carl was wringing his hands around the pink candle he was holding and seemed to be shaking slightly. Sarah's heart started to pound more insistently and she had to resist putting her hand over it. Slowly, Agaea began to wave her hands over the circle and speak in a barely audible whisper.

"_Terla kisat deyley kouloo. Terla kisat manjya fikoot. Erco usheyadis baratimus terristella autermoosney._"

The words had no meaning, rhyme, or reason to Sarah, but whatever Agaea was saying, it seemed to work. The room seemed to get a little bit darker, despite the fact that all the candles remained lit and the temperature dropped at least five degrees. Agaea didn't seem to know or care about the sudden changes. She continued to wave her hands within the circle and didn't let up her chanting.

_"Septray aloeshra vitminos argusos," _Agaea carried on. _"Criarco khellaie mianeta sombriates."_

A light wind now seemed to rush gently through the room. Sarah was definitely getting spooked now. She clung to the red candle in her hands for dear life and was worried that she was going to break it. Her heart had stopped hurting now. It was as if it, too, wanted to know just what was going to happen when Agaea stopped chanting. The wind seemed to rush all around the chalk circle. It grew stronger and stronger the more Agaea spoke, but the flames in the many candles didn't die out. Suddenly, Agaea's chanting now switched to English.

_"I call upon thee, Shattered Soul, whose being is scattered between two worlds," _Agaea said, her eyes still closed and her hands still waving around in the circle. _"Follow my voice through the portal and retrieve your missing piece."_

The wind around the circle grew colder and faster, but nothing else happened. Sarah kept her eyes focused on the circle, not knowing what to expect. Agaea spoke yet again.

_"Follow my voice through the portal and retrieve your missing piece,"_ Agaea repeated. Then, without opening her eyes she lifted her head to Carl's direction. "Carl, what is his name again?"

"J-J-Jareth," stammered Carl. "K-King of the G-G-Goblins and L-L-L-Lord of the L-L-Labyrinth."

_"Follow my voice, Jareth of the Labyrinth, through the portal to the world Above,"_ Agaea went on, focusing all her attention on the circle. _"Come and retrieve that which you have lost. Reclaim your missing piece!"_

Seconds passed and the wind grew stronger. Sarah had to detach her hand from her candle and wipe her hair out of her face, but still nothing happened within the circle. Agaea started to look frustrated. Her brow was furrowed and she was frowning slightly, but she kept waving her hands in the circle.

"It's not working," she whimpered, shaking her head. "He's not answering. I can't get to him. Something is blocking my voice. Someone is trying to stop me reaching him."

"Chaos!" gasped Carl, forgetting that they weren't supposed to speak. "It must be Chaos! Chaos doesn't want us to reach him!"

Sarah felt herself starting to cry. This was scaring her terribly. The wind whipping at her face, the sound of Agaea's voice chanting, the empty circle, and the many candles were all seeming to be too much. Yet nothing was happening. He wasn't here. Something was stopping him. If they couldn't bring him here, if they couldn't make this ritual work, then he would . . .

"JARETH!"

She didn't have a clue what made her do it. Sarah didn't know what on earth could have possessed her to scream his name like that. The impulse to call him, to have him hear _her_ voice and not Agaea's, had overridden everything. It was the way a child would call the name of their parent when they desperately needed comfort. All of a sudden, a roar like thunder echoed through the room and, for the first time, the flames of the many candles started to flicker.

"Something's happening!" Agaea cried, still with her eyes closed but now smiling and waving her hands faster and faster. "I think he heard you! Now, _Shattered Soul, follow my voice through the portal to the world Above!"_

The wind got faster and warmer, the roaring grew louder, and Sarah suddenly felt a tug on her being. She closed her eyes and turned away, too afraid to watch anymore when, all of a sudden, everything stopped.

There was a very long silence in which not a sound could be heard. Sarah felt herself shaking uncontrollably but she mastered her fear enough to open her eyes. But it seemed that all the candles had been blown out, leaving the room just as dark as the inside of her eyelids. There was no difference in what she saw whether her eyes were open or closed.

"Carl," said Agaea's voice, suddenly. "Could you be a dear and turn on the light switch, please?"

Sarah closed her eyes again just as Carl walked over to the wall and flipped on the light switch. The inside of Sarah's eyelids turned red as light shone brightly through them, but she kept them shut. Finally, she heard Carl speak.

"Oh no. He . . . he doesn't look alive, does he?"

Sarah's eyes snapped open and she looked around. In the middle of the circle lay none other than Jareth. For the most part, he looked just like he did ten years ago. Same wild blond hair, same thin face, same build, but there were many things that were horribly different. He was very thin and his skin was sickly pale. What was worse, his clothing was ripped all over and the skin underneath was covered in raw wounds that looked like they'd just barely stopped bleeding. The strange golden amulet he'd worn last time was still laying against his bloodied chest. It was the only thing that seemed to be undamaged.

Agaea stepped into the circle and knelt down beside him, taking his head into her lap. "He's freezing," she said. "There's barely any life in him. He's about to expire." She raised her eyes up to Sarah. "His heart. You must return his heart to him immediately. He only has moments."

Sarah didn't need telling twice. She stepped into the circle and knelt beside him as Agaea was. "Wh-what do I do?" she asked, nervously.

"Just touching you should be enough," said Agaea. "Quickly now!"

Sarah reached down and took hold of Jareth's wrist. His arm felt very light and was cold as marble. Sarah looked down into his lifeless face and felt herself become overwhelmed with emotion.

"Here you are," she whispered. "I've been keeping this for you. I hope I've taken good care of it. But, now it's time it was returned to you." Then, she touched Jareth's hand over her heart.

Immediately, Sarah felt a warm sensation spread throughout her body then it felt like her chest was deflating. The old pain that plagued her heart for so long was lifted from her and she suddenly felt very awake and energized. Likewise, Jareth's many wounds started to close rapidly and his hand on her chest became a little warmer. Life flooded back in his face and he let out a slight sigh, as though relieved.

Carl looked from Agaea, to Sarah, to the unmoving form of Jareth with astonishment. "Wh-what just happened? Did it work?"

Agaea smiled at Sarah then turned over to Carl. "Yes, Carl it worked. Jareth here is now my guest and one of his missing pieces, his heart, has been returned to him."

"An Agent of Chaos!" Carl gasped, falling to his knees in pure awe. "An actual Agent of Chaos, in the flesh! Oh, Dad, if only you could see this!"

"Carl, now is _so_ not the time," said Sarah, irritably.

"Oh, oh right!" said Carl. "W-what do we do with him?"

"I have a guest room down the hall I prepared for him," said Agaea. "We can lie him down in there until we decide how to get the rest of him back. Carl, Sarah, you'll have to carry him, I'm afraid. I'm in desperate need for some hot cocoa."

And so, Carl and Sarah carried Jareth's limp form down the hall of Agaea's house together. He was frighteningly light, so it wasn't too hard. Sarah didn't want to think of how he'd gotten those wounds or what he'd been through for the past ten years. Once they got into the room, Carl pulled the blankets and sheets down from the bed when they heard something heavy fall in the kitchen.

"Agaea," said Carl, looking worried. "I'd better go help her. Can you manage him on your own?"

"Yeah," said Sarah, who really wasn't finding it too hard to keep Jareth's lifeless body under control. "He's pretty light. I've got him from here."

Carl nodded and hurried out of the room to help Agaea. Carefully, Sarah lowered Jareth into a sitting position on the bed. He stayed that way, his chin resting on his chest and his eyes completely shut. It scared her to see him like this.

"Jareth," she said, softly. "I'm so sorry about this. I wish I had answered you sooner, I really do. But you have to understand. I was scared."

He didn't respond in any way. Sarah sighed, took hold of his legs, and swung them up onto the bed. Just as she was about to push him down until he was lying upon the pillows did something most unexpected happen.

Jareth's hands came up, as if of their own accord, and placed his fingertips just underneath Sarah's jaw, keeping her head in place as he leaned in and placed his lips against hers. Sarah stood there absolutely frozen as she felt him kiss her softly, his mouth moving sweetly against hers. Just as her brain started to register what was going on, his hands fell down and he leaned back into the bed and moved no more.


	8. The Shattered Dream

**Ying-Fa: Checkin' back in da hood! Thanks for your reviews, everybody!**

Saturnin paced the long, dark hallway irritably. He couldn't understand what was taking his master so long. Jareth's sudden disappearance from his torture had struck them all as suspicious and frightening. After it had happened, Chaos had left the room and hadn't returned. The whole thing was strange.

"Now, now," said Zane, his silver tooth flashing. "If you keep pacing like that, you'll make a groove in the floor."

"How can you be so calm?" snapped Saturnin. "Did you not see what happened? Jareth somehow escaped his torment! When was the last time you've seen that happen? Never!"

"Calm down," said Ruther. "If Chaos says that it's nothing to worry about then it's nothing to worry about."

"But . . ."

"Seriously," said Zane. "You've always been a worrier, Saturnin. There's nothing to fear. Some poor, misguided sap in the Above world must have summoned him by mistake and how they've got a big, useless chunk of flesh on their hands. He's been mostly dead for about awhile now. Well, he's stopped screaming a year ago, at least."

The six remaining Agents of Chaos were gathered together in the Castle Within the Black Mountain, where Chaos himself dwelt. They were all standing in a dark chamber that they were rarely allowed into. A large, round room behind their master's throne room. There was almost nothing there. There were no walls in the room. It was surrounded by a multitude of black stone pillars that held up a domed roof. In the center of the room was a round pool full of dark water. This pool was very special to their master, for some reason, and they were the only ones allowed to look upon it and live to tell the tale.

"Who knows how that good-as-dead codger got 'imself out," said Vahrley, hitching up his trousers. He was Ruther's brother but had none of his brother's good looks. He was the fattest of the Agents, had little hair on his head but made up for it with his enormous black mustache. "He's as good as gone, ain't he?"

Before anyone could answer him, the black pool rippled and Chaos rose from out of its depths. His pale skin was drenched from the water and his very long, black hair hung like a curtain over his face, so it couldn't be seen. Kieran, the youngest of the Agents, hurried over and wrapped a cloak around Chaos's shoulders.

"Lord Chaos," said Saturnin. "About Jareth . . ."

"There is no need to speak of it further, Saturnin," said Chaos, quietly. "I have just looked into it. Jareth still breathes, but is currently being held in the Aboveground."

"But how's that so, may I ask?" asked Zane, giving his master a puzzled look. "There's no possible way anything in the Aboveground is powerful enough to summon one of us through the portal."

"Oh, but there is," said Chaos, keeping himself wrapped up in his black cloak and his hair covering his face. "Odd that you, my most power-hungry of Agents, wouldn't know all the skills of the Aboveground. Still, it matters not. Jareth has torn himself apart in an attempt to escape me. Now, wherever he is, he will remain in that pitiful state until he regains all the parts of himself that he has lost."

"But it would take a miracle for him to do such a thing," said Quintus, sharply. "I am now the ruler of the Labyrinth. If he hid one of his pieces there, then he'll never regain his true form."

"But I believe in miracles, my good Quintus," said Chaos, darkly. "If Jareth does return to himself, and rest assured that he just might, he will return to the Underground."

"Jareth is not an idiot," said Kieran. "He'll know better than to come back."

"No," said Chaos, shaking his head. "Jareth will return to me. He still wears my mark. He still _belongs_ to me. He can never forget me. Besides, without me, he'll never regain that which _I_ took from him. It's something that he took great pride in. Something he'll sorely miss. As long as he bears my insignia, he'll never get it back without my permission. He'll crawl back to me, you'll see."

"Chaos! Agents!"

A reedy centaur, one of Chaos's meager subjects, hurried into the room with a terrified looking satyr clutched tightly in his arms. "The traitor, sires!"

All of the Agents turned in amusement to see the two creatures struggle. Chaos moved closer to look at them. "Ah," he said. "Well done, Aeron. So this is the wretched weakling that started sprouting stories for all the Underground to hear about how the world needs to rebel against my powers."

"I-I-I didn't mean nothing by it!" wept the satyr. "Please! Please don't harm me! I meant nothing!"

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," said Chaos. "Still, talking like that gets the attention of foul little beasts like yourself and puts ideas in there insolent brains. Don't you remember what happened to the last group that tried to rebel against my Agents and I?"

"Please! I didn't mean anything by it! Please! I'm a father . . .!"

"Hey, Lordship!" snapped Aeron, the centaur. "I'm going to get paid for this, right?"

"Certainly," replied Chaos. He then moved silently over to Saturnin and whispered into his ear. "Take them both out."

Saturnin nodded. He snapped his fingers and a long staff appeared in his palm. In the blink of an eye, he dashed forward and ran the dull tip through both creatures' chests. They choked and gasped, blood everywhere, and the last sound they heard was the laughter of the Agents. Chaos looked at the scene and grinned widely.

"This is what awaits Jareth when he returns to us."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Sarah woke up and was completely unsure of where on earth she was. It took several minutes to remember that she had stayed the night at Agaea's house. After they'd summoned Jareth here from the Underground, Agaea had been very tired and a little ill. The sound they'd heard in the kitchen last night was Agaea almost fainting and knocking her cocoa mug to the ground. Carl had had to carry her into her room and lay her down, despite her rather feeble attempts to tell him that she was fine. Both Sarah and Carl agreed to stay in case Agaea turned out to be seriously ill. Once they were sure that Jareth was comfortable and Agaea had fallen asleep did they allow themselves to drift off as well.

Carl was still fast asleep in Agaea's armchair, his body contorted into a very uncomfortable looking shape that reminded Sarah of Toby when he had gotten the board game, Twister as a birthday present. One leg was over the armrest, the other on the floor, one arm behind his back, and his other arm over his face like a bird covering its head with its wing. Nevertheless, his mouth was open as he snored and his glasses were knocked askew on the bridge of his nose. Sarah, herself, was on the sofa with an afghan thrown over her.

Sarah thought back to the events of the previous night, still unable to believe that they'd actually managed to bring Jareth here. She shuddered as she remembered how pale and cold he was when he'd arrived. She shuddered worse as she remembered all the wounds he'd had all over his body. It was as if someone had tried to slowly tear him to shreds and had been only a few days away from achieving just that, and then there was . . .

A noise in the kitchen made Sarah bolt upright and throw the afghan off her. She went in and saw Agaea was throwing several unusual-looking plants together and using a mortar and pestle to crush them into powder. Once Sarah came into the room, Agaea looked up from her work and smiled at her.

"Good morning," she said, brightly.

"Hey," said Sarah. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, yes," said Agaea. "All it takes is a good night sleep to recover from a ritual like that."

"You sound like you've done it before," said Sarah, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, actually, last night was my first," said Agaea, smiling as though she was embarrassed and blushing. "I've never tried anything like that before. I thought it best not to say that until after we'd tried. It would make everybody less nervous. Still, it worked nicely, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," Sarah agreed, knowing that information would have been torture to know during last nights events. "What are you doing?"

"I'm mixing some roots together for our guest," Agaea explained. "They'll help heal all those ugly wounds and it'll give him the strength he needs if he's to survive here until we get all of his missing pieces back."

"Survive?"

"Your friend has been punished for a long time, Sarah," said Agaea, seriously. "He's gone through a lot of pain. Returning his heart to him recovered a measure of his strength, but I don't know how long the affects of its return will last."

"Well, then where do we start looking for the rest of him?" Sarah asked. It felt a little strange, talking about him like he was a puzzle or something. She'd known Jareth at the height of his power. To see him so weak and without any power at all was strange.

"I'm not sure," said Agaea, honestly. "Perhaps Carl will give us some insight. His father, after all, was the closest thing to an expert when it came to your friend and these what-do-you-call-thems."

"Agents of Chaos," Sarah corrected her, automatically. "Um, Agaea, is it possible that Jareth can . . . wake up the way he is now?"

"Of course not," said Agaea. "Right now, he's just a body with a heartbeat, really. There's no way he can be conscious right now. Even Carl would know that. Why ask such a question?"

"Um, well, because . . . well, last night . . ."

At that moment, Carl himself waddled into the kitchen, his glasses askew and his hair a rat's nest. "What's for brekkie today?" he asked, groggily.

"My, my, speak of the sleepyhead," said Agaea, cheerfully. "We were just wondering about . . ."

"Brekkie first, talk later," said Carl, slouching into the kitchen and clutching the wall for support as if he were in danger of falling asleep again any second. "Can't think . . . can't put thoughts together . . . without sustenance . . ."

"Men," Sarah groaned, irritably. Agaea nodded in agreement.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Well, therein lays the problem, Sarah," said Carl, washing down his last bite of pancakes with a swig of milk. "The Agents of Chaos don't even trust each other, let alone anybody else. I seriously doubt Jareth would let anybody know where he would hide something so important as the pieces of his being."

Sarah, Agaea, and Carl were sitting around the kitchen table and finishing the breakfast of pancakes that Agaea had whipped up after she'd treated Jareth's injuries. They'd asked Carl if there was any way that Jareth would leave some kind of clue as to where he'd hidden his soul and powers with anybody he knew.

"I guess that would make sense," said Agaea, wisely. "According to what you've told us, Sarah dear, Chaos himself was the one that Jareth was hiding from. It wouldn't be safe to tell anybody."

"But he told me," Sarah argued. "I told me what was missing and gave me hints about them. He said his power was breaking and his soul was weary."

"Yeah, but that's not much to go on," said Carl, leaning his head on his fist.

The three thought for awhile in silence before an idea clicked in Sarah's head. "The Labyrinth!" she said. "Maybe one of his pieces is there. It would be an ideal place to hide something. He was the king there, so I'm willing to bet that there's something there."

"I . . . don't think so," said Carl. "It's been a decade since you were there last and, by the sound of it, Jareth hasn't been there in that time either. I'll bet that Chaos might've sent another agent to watch over it by now."

"Is it that important?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," said Carl. "The Labyrinth is where Chaos would send the people who _really_ made him mad. Every time somebody was sent into the Labyrinth, Jareth would offer them a deal. If they got out of the Labyrinth within the time limit, they could go. If they didn't they'd be stuck in there for time and all eternity as either a goblin or a corpse. Of course, they don't realize what a raw deal it is until they get in and realize that there's no way in the Andromeda Galaxy that they're gonna solve it within the limit they're given."

"I did," said Sarah, sheepishly.

"Well, the odds against you were a bit better," said Carl. "You didn't piss Chaos off before you got in, did you?"

Sarah shook her head, but this last statement made her think. Had her time in the Labyrinth been easier than most others? It had seemed like one of the hardest things she'd ever done at the time and she was sure that she wouldn't have made it out without the help of her friends. Still, if she'd done something to offend Chaos first, how much worse would her chances have been?

"Now, now, back to the topic at hand," said Agaea, sharply. "Sarah, Carl, is there anything you know about Jareth that can help us pinpoint his other pieces? I doubt I need to remind you, but without them, he won't survive for very long. We bought him some time, but not enough."

They all thought a little longer and then Carl's eyes snapped open wide. "I just remembered something! Jareth was known for having the power to manipulate visions and dreams."

"Like he did with me," said Sarah, nodding. "Yeah, that's right. That's how we knew he was in pieces, remember?"

"No, not those kinds of dreams," said Carl. "He could create a vision so realistic that he could trap his victims within the fantasies for years and years at a time. He took their heart's desires and made illusions out of them and tempted runners with them. If they took the bait, they'd waste all their time in the illusion and never realize what happened until it was too late. The lucky ones stayed in the dreams until they starved to death. The unlucky ones woke up and realized that they were stuck in the Labyrinth for the rest of their lives."

Agaea looked fascinated by this bit of news and Sarah gasped. "Yes! Yes, that's right! He did that to me when I was there. But I realized what was going on and I woke myself up and I still had some time left."

"Really!?" said Carl, his eyes shining with excitement. "You've seen that power and you actually escaped with time to spare? Amazing! Tell me, how did you do it? What did you see?"

Sarah hesitated. She didn't really feel like telling Carl and Agaea about the ballroom and the dancers that she'd seen when she ate Jareth's enchanted peach. That bit of information was rather . . . private, in her opinion. Agaea seemed to notice her discomfort because she turned to Carl and rapped the table loudly.

"We're getting off topic again," she said, briskly. "What do these fantasy visions have to do with our problem, Carl?"

"I'm willing to bet that Jareth probably hid one of his pieces in a vision like that one," said Carl. He seemed reluctant about not getting his answers from Sarah, but carried on none the less. "It takes a strong will and a keen mind to get passed those visions. It's not easy if you don't know what you're looking for. I'm just taking a stab in the dark, but if he hid anything in an illusion like that, it would be his power. And it'll be really hard to get it back."

"Last time," Sarah said. "I ate a peach and I kinda fell into it. When I realized what was going on, I . . . well, I threw a chair at the wall and it shattered."

"Yeah," said Carl. "You took the enchantment into your own body, that's what starts it. How to get out is another story, depending on what you're seeing. Still, I'll bet real money that he's kept his power in one of those illusions. But what could it be?"

"A crystal," said Sarah automatically. "He always used these pretty, round crystals whenever he was doing magic. I'll bet that's the shape it's in."

"Good, very good," said Agaea. "It sounds like we're going to have to summon this illusion using another ritual."  
"Oh no, Agaea," said Sarah, earnestly. "You just did one last night and it took a lot out of you. You don't have to do it if you're going to strain yourself."

Agaea simply let out a bell-like laugh. "Oh, it'll be fine. Last night was the new moon and we were summoning something very large. There's a bit less magic in the air than last night, but it shouldn't need too much power, since you said it was a peach. My, I must get ready again. I'll have to make some more chocolate cake too!"

Agaea got up, cleared the table and started bustling around the kitchen while Sarah and Carl exchanged a nervous glance.

"I sure hope we're on the right track with this," said Carl, uneasily.

"I know," said Sarah, her thought trailing back to Jareth laying unconscious in the other room. "I do, too."


	9. The Empty Field

Sarah spent the majority of her time that day in Agaea's guest room with Jareth. She'd helped Agaea treat the injuries he had left with her strange, herbal cures and couldn't help but stay with him to make sure he was still alright. Sarah knew he would probably mock or scold her if he knew she was fussing over him like this. He was, after all, a powerful king who did not need mollycoddling. Regardless, she felt like she needed to be by his side and couldn't be compelled to leave.

As she watched him, Jareth hadn't moved or woken up or spoken in his sleep or anything. He was still a bit pale and was lying completely motionless. Several times Sarah was afraid he'd stopped breathing, but the moment she leaned closer she could tell that he actually was and then she'd feel like slapping herself for being so paranoid. But there was really no getting around it. She felt guilty about how he was right now. She'd been hearing his voice calling her for ten years. Ten long years, as he was tortured and punished by a ruthless master, he'd called to her and pleaded for help. But she'd been to cowardly to listen and just forced herself to run away from his voice until she couldn't hear it anymore.

The day wore on and Jareth remained completely unconscious. Twice, women from the town came in to ask Agaea for some medicines and other things. Sarah couldn't help but notice that both times they dressed like they didn't want to be seen. The first one had worn a very large hat with her hair tucked up into it, dark sunglasses, and a thick layer of makeup. The second woman had sunglasses too and had wrapped a shawl around her head and kept looking nervously over her shoulder and out the window as if to make sure nobody was watching.

"Well, Agaea's practices aren't very popular around town," said Carl sadly when he had convinced Sarah to leave Jareth long enough help clean up the dishes from lunch. "She's been called a lot of things by the people here. 'Demon of Satan' and 'Hell spawn' are the kindest of them."

"But there's nothing wrong with what she does," said Sarah, crossly. "I'll admit, I was a little nervous about asking for help at first, but now I don't see anything really wrong with what she can do. In fact, if it wasn't for her help, Jareth would be dead now."

"You know that and I know that," said Carl, heavily. "I hate to say it, but there's a lot of people who would think that summoning somebody from another world into your living room is a little . . . unorthodox."

"Point taken," said Sarah with a sigh. She thought again about what the world would have thought of her if she had come clean about her adventure in the Underground and if she would have ended up in a rubber room if she had managed to tell her father and Irene.

That evening Sarah was feeling too sick to her stomach with nervousness to want to be apart of Agaea's next summoning ritual. Agaea didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, she said it was probably a good idea.

"I'll need to use every ounce of my concentration if I'm going to summon this power to us," she said. "I'm a little worried since I don't have the power of the new moon to aid me this time, but it seems like this will be a much smaller object so that should take off some of the pressure. Just you stay with your friend and make sure he remains alright until the process is over."

So, Sarah did just that. She waited in Jareth's room, looking nervously out the window. She couldn't hear anything that was going on in the other room, but she had a feeling that Agaea and Carl had already started. Sarah looked over at Jareth, but he remained the same as he had all day. He was completely still and silent, his eyes closed and still looking horribly like a corpse in a funeral home.

Sarah shook herself mentally. _Don't think like that_, she scolded herself. There was no point in worrying herself like this. She hated the fact that she was being such a worry wart over him. He was a grown man! Not just any old man, either. He was a powerful, splendid, vindictive, master-minded, secretive, sexy king.

Wait . . . . Where had that last one come from?

Before she could figure out where her own mind was, the door to Jareth's room open and Sarah gasped. Carl stumbled in half-dragging, half-carrying a semi-unconscious Agaea.

"The spell worked," Carl said, sounding dazed and confused. "We managed to summon it, but then Agaea just . . ." he shrugged his shoulder so that Agaea's body flopped a bit.

"Harder . . . than I . . . expected," Agaea mumbled as if she was already two-thirds asleep. "Two . . . Summons . . . in two days . . . not . . . a good . . . idea."

"Oh no," Sarah cried, standing from her chair and rushing to help. "What happened? You said it worked? Why is she still . . ."

"It wiped her of all her energy," said Carl. "And she did manage to summon something but . . . I'm not sure . . . well, this is all we got."

Carl held out his hand and Sarah started. Carl may not know what he was holding, but she did. Sarah took the object from him quickly. "Lay Agaea down in bed," said Sarah. "She really needs to sleep. And start whipping up a chocolate cake for when she wakes up."

"But what are we supposed to do with . . .?"

"I know what to do with this, Carl. I've seen it before."

"But, Sarah, it's a . . ."

"I_ know_ what it is! Trust me. I've got this covered."

"Oh, alright," said Carl, and he slouched out of the room, carrying Agaea with him. He clumsily dragged Agaea to her room and accidentally bumped her head solidly on the doorframe when they got there.

"Oops!" he cried. "Sorry, Agaea."

"Hmm nghn," she mumbled.

Carl sighed and heaved her into her bedroom. With one arm he pulled the covers down and slipped Agaea into bed, fully dressed. He didn't have the time, the patience, or the nerve to try and change her into pajamas or anything like that. The moment she was laying down in bed and he pulled the blankets up to her chin did he hear her breathing softly and slowly in sleep.

"Sorry to have done this to you two days in a row, Agaea," said Carl, sadly. He then went back into the guest room where Sarah waited with the unconscious form of Jareth. But the moment he opened the door he gasped.

Sarah was on the ground, eyes closed and unmoving. After a few seconds where he panicked out did he take a breath and realized that she was still breathing. He looked down at her outstretched hand and saw that the peach Agaea had summoned through the spell was resting in her palm. A huge bite had been taken out of it.

"WHY DOES EVERYBODY AROUND ME FAINT!?" Carl cried to the world.

* * *

Sarah wasn't sure where she was but she liked it. The air she was breathing was so warm and fresh that she knew she must be outside somewhere. She could smell grass and feel it on the ground underneath her. There was contentment in the air, this place rang with it, and she was so peaceful and calm that she didn't bother to open her eyes. Oddly though, despite her contentment, she found she couldn't fall asleep. It was like she was already full of energy and so sleep was pointless and unreachable.

Giving up, Sarah opened her eyes and found herself lying curled up in a fetal position in a midst of long grass. She pushed herself up and looked around. She was in a meadow. Oceans of emerald grass spread in all directions, the wind sending ripples through it so that it swayed like the sea. Sarah looked up into the sky. _It looks like rain,_ she thought. It was true. One half of the sky was shining with golden yellow sunlight but the other half was coated in thick, black storm clouds creeping along with the help of the light wind.

Sarah looked around in all directions, slightly perplexed. There was . . . nothing. There was nothing for miles and miles around. Nothing was in sight except for grass, bright sun and dark clouds. Strange. It was all so very strange. She took a step and then looked down at herself. She was no longer wearing the jeans and t-shirt she'd had on when she'd entered this dream (and, oh yes, she knew it was a dream) but was now wearing a medieval-looking burgundy dress with sliver trimming. Simple, yet tasteful. Her hair didn't hang down but was woven up in a French braid and there was a silver circlet around her forehead.

_Curious_, was all she could think as she inspected herself and her surroundings. _So very curious. So very strange._

The last time she'd entered a dream enchantment that had been created by Jareth everything had been so . . . busy. The crystal chandeliers, the multitude of dancers, the masks and the candles with their columns of wax had all been gathered together in that one splendid dream. But, then again, that had been _her_ dream. This one was his. This is what Jareth held deep in his heart. It was strange, therefore, that a man who lived in a kingdom of walls and corridors would dream of such emptiness.

Sarah walked around the empty fields for a long while, simply strolling along, taking her time. Time was of no consequence here. It barely existed in this place. She didn't ever get tired of walking but just kept going. Finally, for strolling around for who knew how long, she found something. Up ahead was a building that reminded her of an old farmhouse. Puzzled, she started to make her way toward it.

As Sarah approached the house, it started to change. With every step she took it got bigger and bigger. The wooden walls became elongated and turned to stone. Turrets and towers erupted from the roof and the plain wooden door grew into a set of double doors with huge metal studs and round knockers. When Sarah finally approached, she found herself once again at the doorstep of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Sarah then turned to look behind her, but the field was gone. Instead the Goblin City itself, now abandoned, and the twisting, winding passages of the Labyrinth lay behind her. Sarah turned back to the castle and the doors opened for her. She was expected.

The moment Sarah set her foot inside the castle, her foot sank straight into the ground. She couldn't catch her balance in time and fell headfirst into a hole that had been disguised in the floor. Strangely enough, the fall itself wasn't very long. She barely knew she'd landed until she felt her feet on solid ground once more.

_This place is bizarre_, she thought irritably. She moved forward but saw nothing now but blackness. Sarah was vividly reminded of the oubliette and wondered if that was where she was now. And, just like in the oubliette, she heard something moving around in the darkness.

"Who's there?" she asked.

There was no reply. Sarah moved forward, with no idea where she was going or what was there with her. She could hear something around her, like someone breathing or a footstep, but never a word.

"Who are you?" Sarah tried again.

Finally, someone spoke to her. She'd been expecting Jareth, but the voice that answered was most certainly not his. It was deep and echoing in the darkness and so cold it caused the temperature to drop several degrees.

"If anyone has the right to ask that question, my misguided soul, it is I. Why have you invaded this vision of Jareth's? What could you possibly hope to find?"

Sarah shuddered at the horrible voice, but pressed on.

"Something's hidden here," she replied. "I need to find it."

"_You_ need to find something _here_?" said the voice, mirthlessly. "My putrescent Agent Jareth is suffering for his lack of faith in the master who granted him everything. There is nothing for a simple-minded fool like you to find here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must continue to investigate this very interesting dream."

Sarah heard the voice move away. The voice had called Jareth an Agent. _His_ Agent, to be precise. That could only mean one thing.

"You," she gasped. "You're Chaos."

"Hm, you know my name," he murmured. "How very interesting. What's even more interesting is that you dare to say it aloud. I think I might take a slight interest in you. Who are you? Tell me your name and show me your face."

Within the darkness a light flickered into life. A tiny flame appeared at the tip of a long, pale finger with a sharp black nail. Still, Sarah couldn't see the face of the person in front of her. She was about to move closer but a great, terrible impulse ran all through her being. Sarah could literally hear her own brain screaming at her.

_Don't tell him your name. Don't show him your face. Don't go near him, whatever you do._

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't want to stay here, with this creature, for another second. Instead of going forward toward the light, she moved backward away from him.

"Where might you be going, my little soul?" said Chaos. Sarah didn't know if he could see her in the dark or not, but she continued her retreat. "There's no need to hide. In fact, hiding makes things worse. Show yourself to me."

Sarah didn't answer him. She spun completely around in the dark so that the tiny flame was out of sight and ran as far from him as her feet could carry her.

"Return here at once," demanded Chaos. "Who are you!? How did you came here? Why are you in Jareth's realm? ANSWER ME, YOU WRETCHED CREATURE!"

Sarah panicked and ran further from the voice. She didn't know if Chaos was coming after her or not but she didn't stick around to find out. Finally, she slammed into a wall, felt the handle of a door and opened it.

Sarah slipped inside the new room and forced herself to slow down and catch her breath. Chaos was here, in this dream, and had nearly caught her. She felt horrified about what nearly happened and hoped deeply that the door she'd come through was locked or lost in the darkness of the previous room.

Just as she turned around to explore her new surroundings did she realize where she was. It was her old bedroom, just the way she had it when she was fifteen years old. Happily she walked through and looked around at her old toys and things. She glanced into her old vanity mirror and found, to her surprise that she was fifteen years old again, exactly the same as the day she ran the Labyrinth.

_Great, now I'm ready for anything, _she thought asshe laid her hand down upon an old, dwarf-shaped bookend that greatly resembled an old friend. Suddenly the bookend looked up at her, quite literally looked up, and spoke to her.

_"Now, would you go left or right?"_

Sarah looked down at it, only a little startled. "Hoggle," she said.

_"Who were ya expectin'? The Tooth Fairy?"_

"Hoggle, I'm looking for something," said Sarah. "Something Jareth left here. Do you know where it is?"

_"Did he now?" _scoffed the Hoggle bookend._ "How like Jareth to be making life difficult for everybody around him. Well, you won't find it in here. There's nothing in here but memories."_

"Hm? Memories? What do you mean?" Sarah asked, but the bookend went still again. Sarah looked around her room, but there was no other door except the one she'd come through that lead to the darkness, where Chaos dwelt. Frightened, Sarah moved toward the door and opened it.

This time, however, the darkness wasn't there. She was back in the field again, but this time it wasn't empty. In the middle of the grass there was a marble pedestal with a purple cushion resting on it. Sarah stepped through the doorway and the door vanished behind her, her room with it. She approached the pedestal and saw that what she wanted was resting upon it. Flushed with success, she reached forward and grasped it in her hand.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Sarah? Sarah? Are you alright? Come on! Please wake up!"

Sarah opened her eyes to see Carl standing over her. Once he saw that she was awake he looked immensely relieved. "Thank goodness! I was getting worried. You've been out for ages! Agaea's okay, she woke up a few hours ago but she's still worn out from the ritual."

"That's . . . good," said Sarah, sitting up and rubbing her head. Somehow Carl had gotten her to the couch in Agaea's living room where she'd slept the night before.

"What were you thinking?" Carl demanded. "Eating that peach, are you sane? It could have been poisoned or something horrible like that."

"I told you I knew what to do," Sarah mumbled, irritably. "That peach was exactly the same as the one Jareth gave me back in the Labyrinth. What's more, I found what I was looking for." Sarah held out her palm and showed him the perfectly round crystal ball in her palm. There were deep cracks in it and looked a few more cracks away from braking into a million pieces.

"Where'd that come from?" Carl asked, eyeing the crystal in amazement.

"In the dream," said Sarah, looking at it sadly. "This crystal is one of several he used whenever he did magic. It's the symbol of his power, it _is_ his power. One of the pieces of him that was lost. And look," she indicated the cracks. "It was breaking, just like he said. But now that I found it, I can give it back."

"Oh!" Carl cried, looking delighted. "That's great! That's wonderful! That's spectacular! That's . . ." he paused and sniffed the air. Sarah eyed him and did the same.

"What's that smell?" she asked.

"Oh no," groaned Carl. "THE CAKE! I was gonna make Agaea another cake to get her better and . . . I FORGOT!"

Carl rushed into the kitchen just as the fire alarm started beeping. Sarah shook her head, laughing slightly, and went into Jareth's room.

Jareth hadn't moved one bit since she'd slipped into his dream. Sarah took the crystal, his power, and touched it to his chest right above his strange amulet. At once, the crystal vanished and Jareth took a very deep breath. Suddenly he looked even more like the king she once knew. That 'sparkle' for lack of a better word, had returned to his face as his magic was restored. To Sarah's dismay, however, he still did not awaken.

"I guess I was right," said a voice from behind her. Sarah turned to see Agaea looking into the room smiling. "He won't fully awaken until he's fully restored. Fortunately, we only have one piece left."

"Yeah," said Sarah, looking down at Jareth's sleeping form. "One piece left."

**Ying-Fa: There you have it, ladies and gentleman! Jareth's now three-fourth's complete! Sorry for the wait, things are getting hectic once again. But, I promise that I shall continue this story with as much diligence as I can muster. Please leave your long, gracious reviews and most certainly promise that I shall be back as soon as possible.**


	10. The Barn Owl

**Ying-Fa: Sorry for the wait. It's been a hassle and inspiration has been low. Thankfully, wonderous reviews helped kick me back into gear. With luck, the next one won't take as long. I promise I'll never have you wait more than a week between updates because I, too, hate it when updates take a month in between. I won't take long again. Thank you for your patience.**

With his powers restored to him, Jareth's health no longer seemed to be in danger. His skin was no longer pale and sickly-looking, but had regained color and all of his injuries were gone completely. To Sarah's dismay, however, he still seemed unable to wake up. Since he'd gotten his power back, he's started moving more. He'd turn onto his side or onto his back, sighing in his sleep but never woke. Even though he'd yet to fully regain consciousness, it was comforting to see him move like that. This way he seemed more asleep and less comatose than before.

After the dreadful affects the ritual had had on Agaea last time, the three friends decided that it was not a good idea to try and summon Jareth's last mission piece, his spirit, through Agaea's magic again. It had taken Agaea a whole day of bed rest to recover from the second ritual. It was too difficult when the veil between the worlds was at full power and if Agaea overdid herself, something dreadful might happen to her. Death and insanity were two very possible outcomes of her trying again. She could do it again at the next new moon, but that would take another month.

Once Agaea was well again, she suggested that Carl stay and keep an eye on Jareth while she and Sarah went to the department store in town. She'd said that since Jareth was just about put back together, then he'd need something else to wear once he woke up. The clothing he'd arrived in was in tatters and Agaea didn't have any men's clothing and Carl was a good six inches shorter than Jareth and his limbs were a lot skinnier, so they were sure his clothes wouldn't fit Jareth.

"I still don't see why I had to come along," said Sarah uncomfortably as she and Agaea wandered through the men's section at the store in town.

"You're the only one who's met him properly," said Agaea brightly, holding up a pair of men's jeans and checking the size. "You probably know what he would like best."

Sarah squirmed uncomfortably. She really didn't think a department store would hold anything remotely like what Jareth was used to. She'd tried to explain to Agaea about what he'd worn in the Labyrinth and she'd done fine about describing the poet's shirts, the leather waistcoat, the gloves and the boots. Once she'd gotten to those remarkably tight breeches, however, she kind of lost her nerve. Of everything else, she was _positive_ that the store wouldn't have _those._

Sarah mostly tagged along quietly as Agaea threw this and that into her shopping cart. Since they weren't positive about how he'd take Aboveground clothing, they got him a bit of everything. They'd found jeans, sweatpants, workpants, sweaters, T-shirts, tennis shoes, boots (but nothing like the ones he originally had) and all other manner of things. Agaea, bless her, allowed a blushing and highly embarrassed Sarah to remain with the cart while she examined men's underwear. Of everything they'd bought so far, Sarah had only picked out one piece of clothing. A long robe that was just a shade bluer than the blue of his right eye (the normal one). Something about it had reminded him of her and so she'd thrown it in with the other purchases.

When Agaea returned and they were heading to the check-out line, Sarah noticed a good majority of the other shoppers were giving them strange looks. Sarah had thought it was because of the sight of two women with a huge cart full of only men's clothing, but their discomfort became clear before too long. A mother had dragged her tiny son far in the other direction, her eyes fixed upon Agaea with a terrified expression. A white-haired man saw Agaea approaching and crossed himself quickly as if warding off a curse. Finally, a middle-aged woman and her two friends glared at Agaea as if trying to burn her with their eyes. Sarah could also have sworn that she'd heard one of them mutter under her breath, "Hell whore."

Agaea, on the other hand, seemed utterly oblivious to the hostile reactions of the others around her. She smiled gently as she paid for all the items she bought and as they were heading out of the store, she even started humming to herself. Something that sounded suspiciously like "Modern Love".

Once they'd reached the parking lot did one of Agaea's ill-wishers finally decided to come right up and speak. A couple of young men around Sarah's age came over just as they'd finished loading all of their things into Agaea's beat up little car.

"Hey, there she is!" said one of the men, a freckly red-head with a good tan and strong arms. "The Wicked Witch of the West."

"Maybe if we throw water on her she'll melt," said his companion, a thickset man with a blonde cowlick. "That'll do everyone a favor."

Agaea turned and smiled at the two men. "Hello Sean, Hello Geoffrey," she said, cheerfully. "How are you today?"

"It _was_ going okay until you showed up in our town," said the cowlick, Geoffrey. "Why do you keep coming here anyway? The sheriff himself told you to keep out of our town. Do you want to get arrested?"

"Not at all," said Agaea, simply. "And that's not quite what he said. He came over awhile ago and suggested that I run my errands over in the next town because I made people nervous. I understood his reasons, but it's far too much of a hassle to drive all the way out to Eastonville to simply pick up a gallon of milk."

"I don't see any milk in there," said the redhead, Sean. "Those are all men's clothes! What are you doing with all of that? You gonna give 'em to your human sacrifices?"

"Certainly not," said Agaea. "My brother is visiting me and he didn't bring a lot with him to wear. He's feeling very under the weather, so I offered to run into town and pick up some new clothes for him, that's all."

Sarah looked over at Agaea, impressed by the lie. The men, however, looked even more offended.

"You've got a _brother_?" asked Geoffrey. "Is _he_ a witch too?"

"You moron," said Sean. "Male witches are sorcerer. I'll bet that's what he is. Some kind of freaky sorcerer."

"He's nothing of the sort," said Agaea. "He's simply my older brother who is visiting . . ."

"Let me tell you something right now, witch," said Sean, angrily. "We've put up with you because there was just one Satan worshipper in town, but if you start bringing more people the likes of you into our town and you're gonna regret it!"

Sarah, who had been listening to the entire thing and was getting steadily angrier the whole time, had had enough.

"Okay, stop it both of you!" She demanded, stepping between Agaea and these two bullies. "Leave her alone right now. She's not doing anything to you."

The two men glared at her now. "Who are you?" Sean sneered as he asked. "I haven't seen your face around here. Don't tell me you're a part of this witch's coven or something."

"No," Sarah snapped right back. "She's just my friend and I won't let you say such things to her anymore. What you're doing is downright harassment and if you don't back off, I'll call the police."

"The _police_ here are on our side," said Sean, scowling. "They won't lift a finger to help this nasty witch. And I'm confident in saying that they're not gonna listen to _you_, her outsider coven sister, either."

"Now, now," said Agaea, but something had changed in her voice. It was still breathy and sweet but there was a dark, icy edge to it that put an end to Sarah and Sean's argument. "There will be no further name-calling. Sarah does not share my beliefs and therefore you have no right to address her so cruelly. Sarah, please just let it be. I'm much better at dealing with these local cads myself. Let us return home. _My brother_ will be waiting for us."

Sarah didn't want to drop her fight with Sean, but knew it would only make things worse. She threw him one last dirty look before she climbed into the passenger side of Agaea's car.

"I can't believe you let them talk to you like that!" said Sarah, heatedly. "They had no reason to be so rude! Why don't you tell someone? Call the police and complain about them. Do something!"

"I greatly appreciate your concern for my well-being, Sarah," said Agaea, kindly. "I'm very touched, but it's really alright. I'm not afraid of them. Indeed, if I did complain or retaliate in any way, that would give them even more reason to dislike me."

"There's no reason to dislike you in the first place!" Sarah said. "Judging people just because of the way they live, it's not fair!" she added with an angry huff. It had been a long time since she'd been driven to use her old teenage mantra.

Agaea simply smiled and shrugged. "You're right, of course. It isn't fair at all. But, sadly, that's the way it is in this life."

Sarah knew she was right, but she still grumbled angrily all the way back to Agaea's house. When they came back they found Carl sitting in the living room, reading up on all his father's notes on the Agents of Chaos.

"He hasn't moved much except to turn over," he said, before Sarah could even ask. "It looks like we were right when we guessed that he'll stay asleep until his spirit returns. I guess we'll just have to find it first."

"But it could be anything, anywhere" said Sarah. "I seriously doubt he'll last the whole month until the next new moon for us to get his spirit back."

"We won't know until later," said Agaea, putting all her shopping backs onto the couch so she could sort and fold all the clothes they'd bought. "Still, he's not in as much danger now as he was before. With his powers back, he's much healthier than he was when we first brought him here."

Sarah sighed and knew she should drop it. She mumbled something about getting fresh air and went outside into Agaea's yard. She couldn't help it anymore. Being inside was becoming torturous, with Jareth's unconscious form there with her. Every time she saw him she felt this horrible guilt. It was her fault his was like this. He'd been suffering for an entire decade and she was the cause of it. Whenever she thought about it, she felt miserable and awkward and no longer sure of what to do with herself.

Sarah sat down on Agaea's front steps and looked up into the sky. It was remarkably like the sky she'd seen in Jareth's dream the other day. The sun was shining weakly through an overcast, gray sky. The slight sent of rain was in the air, but Sarah could tell that it was still a ways away before it would come. She thought back to the dream and how strange it had been. All those seemingly random places, the field, the castle, her old bedroom, and that darkness where Chaos had hidden had made no sense to her at all. She shuddered as she remembered the deep, hollow voice of Chaos while she wandered blindly through the darkness. Had he really been there, or had it been the dream?

Had it been the dream, Sarah thought grinning. She'd had that thought before, when she'd awoken from her own enchanted dream in the Labyrinth all that time ago. When she broke free of the illusion and found herself in the Junk Yard, the dream was the only thing she'd remembered. Later, she'd begun to think about it more carefully. Carl had said it was built upon her own fantasies and dreams, but . . . no. That was silly. True, she'd always wanted to go to a ball, like Cinderella or some other fairy tale princess, and be apart of something so sophisticated, so grown-up. She'd wanted to meet a dashing stranger to sweep her off her feet, certainly, but . . . Jareth? Bah! Who knew?

But as of now, Jareth was still unable to awaken from his tormented sleep, the one he'd been in since she'd said those words. Sarah put her eyes in her hands and thought about what she'd heard him say in the dream she'd had in the hotel here in town. The dream where she'd finally been able to speak to him again after all these years.

_My soul is growing weary . . ._

_Think_, Sarah thought hard. _Think. What could that mean? _

She remembered the cracks in the crystal ball and it would be many, many years before she forgot the burden of his heart wrapped around hers. But how could something be weary, or tired out? Sounded like something that needed to be alive. It couldn't be her, Sarah, again because she'd know. She'd have felt it, just like with his heart. But then, what could it be?

Without any real warning, memories of those final moments in the Labyrinth came back into her mind. She remembered reciting her lines while Jareth argued before her. He told her that he was being generous, that he'd done everything for her, that he was exhausted living up to her expectations. Then she'd said those words that had set her free. She told him he had no power over her and that's when something very strange had happened.

The crystal he'd been offering her, the one that would show Sarah her dreams, had been tossed into the air. She'd tried to catch it, but it vanished as it barely touched her fingertips. _His power_, Sarah thought, suddenly stunned. _That crystal had been his powers! The same one that I just gave back to him!_

Then she'd watched him fall. She couldn't see the expression on his face or anything. He just . . . fell from sight as lifeless as a scarecrow. _There was nothing in him then,_ Sarah realized. _That was his body. It was just as Agaea had summoned it a few days ago, except for the fact that it had been tortured for years when we brought it here._

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to think. There was something she was forgetting, she knew it. She tried to bring it back to life, but it was weak and faded from years of self-suppression. What else was she forgetting about that night? She remembered after he vanished, the Underground had vanished with him. She remembered being back and home and going up to Toby's room to make sure he was there. But that was still wrong. What was she missing?

A slight breeze rushed past Sarah's face, carrying a damp smell along with it. Sarah snapped out of her reverie and looked around. The clouds up in the sky had become slightly darker and threatened more than just a late spring shower. She knew from experience that this was the brewing of an early summer storm. Sarah knew she ought to go inside with Carl and Agaea, but she didn't want to lose her train of thought. Cloudy, rainy days always seemed to help her think clearer than other days. She struggled to remember about the Goblin King. What had happened in the limbo between being in the Underground and the Aboveground? What had been going on?

The answer came so sharply it felt like someone had cracked a whip in her mind. _The owl!_ Sarah remembered now, more perfectly than ever. Just when she'd realized that she was back home, she'd watched a large and beautiful white barn owl flying about the room with her. It circled the living room once, and then took off through the window.

Sarah lowered her head and couldn't help but smile at her own brilliance. She hadn't known it then, but she could tell now. That hadn't been an ordinary owl. That had been _Jareth's soul_ flying out into the night, far away from Sarah and the Underground, flying free through the darkness.

Just as Sarah was congratulating herself on figuring this out all on her own did dread creep back into her system. So his soul was flying around the Aboveground somewhere, growing weak and tired apparently, and she hadn't the faintest idea as to where it could possibly be. It had been a good idea to hide it here. The Aboveground was vast and there was no telling where it could have flown off to. It could very well be flying over Indonesia, couldn't it?

Sarah's musings were disrupted by a fat drop on the top of her head. The storm had finally arrived. Sarah still didn't move to go inside the house. The rain hadn't affected the warmth of the late afternoon and she felt a desire to stay outside just a little longer. She went further up the steps until she was sheltered under Agaea's porch and kept thinking, dwelling on the past . . .

* * *

Hours went by and Sarah watched the rain and heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. The dismal weather had brought her down into a kind of torpor. She barely moved, her eyes barely blinked as she rested her head against the wall of Agaea's house, lost in thought. Her adventure was spinning in her head in play-by-play mode, the memories triggered by the rain.

She thought about her life before the adventure. How strangely simple it had been. She'd been just an angry, bratty teenager who was bothered by her parents getting divorced and her father getting remarried. Her head had been full of thoughts of the theater, of standing in the spotlight after a performance and having adoring fans throw roses at her feet. She'd dreamed of being with fancy, high class people who welcomed her as one of their own. Her mother at her side, glowing with pride and Jeremy's charming smile lighting up the room as she walked in.

This last bit made Sarah snort with humorless laughter. Shortly after the Labyrinth incident and her premature heart attack, Linda and Jeremy's relationship had met a violent end. Linda had demanded that she go see Sarah immediately once she'd heard about the heart attack, but Jeremy had insisted that it was impossible for a girl so young to have a heart attack and insisted that Robert was just trying to lure Linda over. His arguments had talked her into not going to see Sarah in the hospital until a week after her attack. It had been her turn to see Sarah that day and when she saw that Sarah really was in the hospital, Linda lost it. It had lead to an explosion of a fight between the couple which ended in Linda throwing a great deal of Jeremy's possessions out the window of her third-floor apartment. Sarah always felt a little proud of her mother's reaction and her adolescent crush on Jeremy was quite as over as his relationship with her mother.

Going back to thoughts of the Labyrinth, Sarah remembered her three friends. Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus had been the real reason she'd made it through. Sarah felt sad and lonely for them. She'd promised to call for them and she never had. What an awful friend she was, and after they'd been so kind. She missed them. She missed being a kid. She missed a lot of things.

Then, finally, she remembered the dream she'd had after eating the peach. Oh, how she remembered it! She remembered finding Jareth in the crowd, dancing with him, being held in his arms even if it was for so brief a time! She hated thinking of it as a trick to make sure she lost. It had been so wonderful and she'd loved it so dearly and the way Jareth had gazed upon her in the dream . . . . It was like he was two people, Jareth. One moment he was the cruel, sarcastic, and mocking nightmarish Goblin King and Agent of Chaos. But then he could be someone else entirely. Someone much gentler and more sympathetic, yet just as determined and still a bit mocking. Someone who could reason and plead while never appearing weak. Jareth as a man, nothing more.

Still lodged deep in her thoughts, Sarah began to hum to herself. It was what she could remember of the song he'd once sang for her in that crystal ballroom. She couldn't remember all the words but she pieced the tune together after a few attempts. As she sat there, dazed and humming, the chorus suddenly returned to her and she started to mumble the song aloud.

" . . . _pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you,_" Sarah said to herself. She hummed a little more, the rest forgotten until. "_But I'll be there for you, as the world falls down._"

CRASH!

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance and suddenly Sarah sat bolt upright, snapped back into reality and her heart pounding. It wasn't the thunder that had scared her. It was just . . . for one moment . . . but it couldn't be. She'd been lost in memories of dreams, almost half-asleep. Still, she just had to make sure.

Sarah got to her feet and left the porch, looking around. She'd felt something, something very strong. It was as if Jareth had been right beside her for a moment, not just the man lying down in Agaea's guest room, but really Jareth. Jareth when he'd been whole. When he'd still been all powerful and spellbinding.

She hurried around the house, heedless of the rain and looking around in Agaea's strange bushes. She knew she'd felt something powerful and it was around here somewhere. If she could only find it and then she'd know if she was just fooling herself . . .

She wasn't. Just as Sarah pried apart a large bush did she find just what she was looking for. Lying on the ground, its lovely white feathers covered in rain water and mud, was a barn owl. No. It was _the_ barn owl. There was no mistaking it, not even if it had been a thousand years since she'd last seen it. But it was laying down as if it had just fallen from the sky. Sarah looked closely and could see it breathing but it just looked so tired.

Bending forward carefully, she reached down and stroked its head carefully. Its head snapped toward her, and its black eyes drank in the sight of her.

"Jareth?" she asked.

The bird didn't reply in any way but it blinked slowly and deliberately. Sarah suddenly felt like crying.

"You've . . . been flying all this time," she said. "Haven't you? You must be so tired."

The owl closed its eyes gently as if to say "_You haven't the faintest idea._"

Sarah let out a feeble chuckle and picked it up. "I'll get you back. The rest of you has been resting, waiting for you. It's time to take you back."

The owl simply bobbed its head slightly. The gesture that told her that he would like it very much if she did that. She bent down and scooped the bird into her arms and carried him onto the porch. She then shifted him to one arm and threw the door open with her free hand.

"CARL! AGAEA!" Sarah called. "COME QUICK!"

Her two friends came skidding into the room, looking bewildered. Sarah didn't have time to explain things at length, so she hurried toward the guest room before a single question could be asked. Once she got there, she carefully approached Jareth's sleeping body. The owl turned its head toward it and its wing gave an excited flap and it hooted loudly. Carefully, she laid the bird down to rest on the man's chest. For one second they simply stayed there but then the owl vanished quietly from sight and Jareth, now complete, gave a long, deep groan.

"Sarah," breathed Carl, unable to believe what he'd just seen. "How did you do that!? How on earth did you find . . .?"

"It must have known," said Agaea. "I'll bet it must have felt the rest of him coming together and felt the pull of his magic calling to it in the Aboveground. It followed the presence of the power here. How marvelous, we didn't even have to look for it. Oh, look! It looks like he's coming around."

It did. Jareth turned over onto his side and frowned slightly. He took a deep breath through his nose and, at long last, he opened his eyes.

Jareth didn't seem to register what he was looking at, at first. He reached his hand up and rubbed his eyes and then stared around for a second look. His mismatched eyes drank in the sight of his bed, the walls, the floor and then his three companions. He saw Carl first, then slowly worked his way over to Agaea, and finally his eyes came to rest upon Sarah.

The second Jareth's eyes made contact with hers, goosebumps erupted all over Sarah's body. The power in his eyes hadn't faded away. Even after all he'd gone through, and all the years that had passed, he was just the same. He was staring avidly at her and then opened his mouth slightly.

"…"

No sound had come from Jareth's lips. Jareth lowered his eyes to the ground and raised his hand to his neck. Something was wrong. Sarah hurried over to him.

"Jareth?" she asked, carefully. "What's wrong?"

"…"

Again, he didn't say anything. He looked much more bothered now, he raised both his hands to his throat and made like he wanted to scream.

"… … …!" Still, not a sound came from Jareth's lips. His eyes widened and he moved his hands upward to cover his face miserably. Then his hands slid further up and clutched at his wild hair.

"What is it!?" Sarah demanded, looking over at Agaea and Carl hoping for help. "What's happened? What's wrong with him?"

"Um, well, this is just a suggestion," said Agaea, looking at Jareth with all the sorrow and pity in the world. "But it would appear that . . . he no longer has a voice."


	11. The Silent Treatment

**Ying-Fa: Sorry for the wait, life is chaos in itself. But more is to come. Please, enjoy the next chapter.**

He was sunk. That was all there was to it. He was completely and totally sunk. After ten years of facing tortures and sufferings the likes of which most could only dream, he'd finally been pieced together only to discover that his voice, his greatest pride, was gone. Chaos must have snatched it from him while he'd been torturing him in an attempt to further punish him. Now it was gone and he didn't know if it could ever be recovered.

Of course it had all been that much worse, that much more humiliating, to have discovered this loss with _her_ there. Ten years since he last saw her. Ten years since he'd split himself into fragments. Ten years of suffering the most horrible and tormenting things. It hadn't just been pain. Bodily pain was only part of Chaos's style. To make the body physically weak by inflicting copious and endless amounts of sheer agony was only the first part. Let's not even discuss the nightmares. The most vivid and brutal of visions had plagued his mind for what had seemed to be a thousand years rather than a short ten. He didn't want to think about it. It was too overwhelming to go over the pains of those visions again. He'd have taken the physical torment again twice over before he went through those visions again. They were that bad.

Then there was his present situation. He still had no idea how he ended up in the Aboveground or so close to Sarah or who her companions were. But he couldn't really ask about details when he had no voice, now could he? He wanted answers very much but, unfortunately, Sarah had been unable to give them to him. After he'd woken up and found that his voice was gone he'd spent a few hours in silent rage, throwing something of an inner tantrum. Sarah and her companions had left him alone to deal with his new surroundings and with the loss of his voice. His long broodings had lead him to exhaust what little energy he had. When he awoke again, it appeared to be the next day and he'd heard a commotion outside the room where he'd been staying. After taking a few seconds to remember how to walk, he'd crept from his room to investigate the noise. From the hall, he'd seen Sarah running around frantically, gathering things and speaking very fast.

"How can I not have noticed that I've been here almost a week?" Sarah had cried, as she ran around, gathering various possessions.

"We've had a very busy few days, it's completely understandable for you to have lost track of time," said a blonde woman who was also hurrying around to help.

"I've been away from work _and_ from school for five days!" Sarah exclaimed. "_Five days!_ I'm so far behind! I've missed two due dates! The people at work are gonna be so angry!"

"Work?" said the blonde, curiously.

"Yes, Agaea, work!" shrieked Sarah. "Y'know, that place you go everyday when you want money. Oh, I'm gonna be so lucky if they don't fire me. I'm in such deep . . ."

"Calm down," Agaea interrupted. "You mustn't worry yourself so. It gives you gray hair and wrinkles. You'll be fine. I know you will."

"Agaea," said Sarah, gratefully. "I'm so sorry I have to leave you alone with . . . I mean, the way he is . . . he just got back and . . ."

"It's fine, it's fine," Agaea said, kindly. "I promise I'll take very good care of him. Won't you come back again over the weekend and see us? I'm sure he'll greatly appreciate it."

"What?" said Sarah, distracted. "Oh, of course I will. I'll be back late Friday and . . . see how things are going. That is if I'm not _fired_ when I get back home," she added in dismay.

He watched as she hurried out of the house, closing the door behind her. It was so strange to see her now, after all this time. She had been the only thought that kept him sane through his torment. Since Chaos had never known her name or seen her face, she was the one thought that couldn't have been taken away or twisted in some horrible way. But, whenever he had thought of her, she'd been the young girl he'd known years ago. In his mind she'd always remained that same stubborn, determined, fiery, beautiful young woman, little more than a child. But she was different now. She was much older, more mature, more collected and far more beautiful than ever.

Sarah . . . you've grown up on me.

Over the next few days he kept to himself in the room where he'd woken up. There were only the two people who came to see him. First there was that unbearably irritating young man with the glasses who kept asking him questions. You'd think he'd have more common sense than to ask such things to a person who couldn't talk. Then again, he didn't want to answer them even if he _could_ talk. The first time that man had come into his room, he'd been flushed and jittery. Not very comforting, that much was certain.

"Wow," he'd said. "Y-you're just like what father thought! This is amazing!" he chuckled giddily. "Sorry to bother you. My name is Carl Finchly. I guess you could call me a fan."

The man called Carl laughed nervously again. Jareth glared up at him indignantly and recoiled away from him.

"Oh, sorry," said Carl, taking in Jareth's body language. "I-I'm not laughing _at_ you, I promise. I'm just excited! In this world, you and the other Agents of Chaos are nothing but myths and legends! It's so amazing to know that you guys are really here! Oh, I have so many questions for you! If you could . . ."

And he was off for about twenty minutes, wanting all sorts of answers about Chaos and the Agents and the Underground and every other related subject that could be thought up. Jareth didn't answer a single one of them, not even with a shake or a nod of his head. Even a fool could tell he was neither in the condition nor the mood to answer any of these questions. Just when he was about to loose his temper did the door open again.

"Carl Finchly, shame on you!"

"Oh! Agaea! I was just . . ."

"I know very well what _you were just_ . . ." snapped Agaea. "You leave my guest quite alone, Mr. Finchly or I'll have no choice but to escort you from the house."

"Okay, okay," whined Carl. This annoyed Jareth too. The man was a complete pushover. How undignified! Carl got up and left the room, dragging his feet. Agaea turned and smiled at Jareth.

"I'm sorry, he's just a fan," she said. "If there's anything you need from me, don't hesitate. I know you're unable to call or ask, but when you're comfortable you can come to me if you need anything."

The woman called Agaea was, at least, less annoying than Carl, but Jareth was perhaps even more uneasy around her. She treated him with respect and gave him food and, from what he could tell, was granting him shelter in her house. Still there was the fact that that woman was . . . . Well, it wasn't like it was something to worry about _too_ much. When (he tried valiantly not to think _if_) he ever got his voice back, wherever it was, he would ask about it.

But his sufferings weren't over yet. Even though he was in the Aboveground, far away from Chaos, the monster still had a hold on him. One night, a few days after he awoke, he'd heard the voice of Chaos in his dreams, where he was most vulnerable.

_"So, managed to pull yourself together, did you Jareth?"_ Chaos had said. _"I suppose I should congratulate you. Still, you're not _completely_ together again, aren't you?"_

Chaos's laughter echoed in the darkness where he was at his most powerful. It chilled the soul and struck fear into the heart.

_"You can never be free of me,"_ Chaos went on. _"You'll always be my servant. Stay sheltered in the Aboveground all you like, my disappointing Agent. See how long you can survive there. See how long it takes you before you go insane. Before long, you'll come back. We both know you will. It's only a matter of time, Jareth. Only a matter of time._

Jareth snapped awake, but lay still in his bed. He was covered in cold sweat and his hands were shaking slightly. He shook his head and rose from his bed. Chaos was right, in a sense. Jareth doubted if the visions and memories would ever fade. He walked over and looked at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair and then trailed it down his face and touched his eye. This was the one with the dilated pupil. He didn't know why this one was different than the other. He could never remember what had happened to make it like that. He brought his hand down lower on his body until it reached the amulet around his neck.

He fingered the amulet for a second. Despite all that had happened, the Symbol of Chaos was still around his neck as it had been for years before and probably will be for more to come. It had never left him, not even through his torture. The Symbol wasn't something he could just take off or get rid of. By the ancient laws, Chaos was forbidden to enter the Abovegrounds, but that didn't seem to help sever the hold Chaos had on him. He could never be released from his grasp. He wished he could, though. He'd felt honored and terribly thrilled to receive the Symbol when he was first made an Agent. Now, however, he felt disgusted at the sight of it.

Jareth leaned forward and rested his forehead against the cold glass of the mirror. No matter how his feelings had changed or what he'd done to defy the one who gave him his power and glory, as long as he was still tied to him, he'd always remain and Agent of Chaos.

* * *

Sarah drove back to Clarence the next weekend, feeling glum. She should have known better than to skip off work for several days and refuse to work weekends when lay-offs were happening at work. They'd called her during one of the days she wasn't home and delivered the blow on her answering machine. The news made her sink with disappointment, but there was little she could do about it now. She was also terribly behind in her classes. She tried to patch things up at school but her efforts were half hearted at best.

Sarah wanted very much to just be able to stay in Clarence with Jareth and the others. She'd called several times to ask Agaea how he was doing. She'd reported that he was doing alright, eating well, but still incapable of speaking. From what Agaea had said, Jareth didn't seem to like _any_ of the clothing that they'd bought him. The only article of clothing that he seemed to like was the blue robe that Sarah had picked out for him. Whether or not he knew that she was the one who'd picked that particular item, she didn't have a clue.

This time, as she approached the small town, Sarah had taken a few measures to insure that she could spend more time over there. She'd dropped two of her more difficult classes and packed a larger bag and booked her hotel room in advanced. As much as she wanted to be with Jareth now, she didn't plan on sleeping in the same house with him. He was still a very powerful person and she wasn't sure what his feelings were for her at this point in time. Still, life couldn't go on until this business with Jareth was solved and that was that.

As she approached Agaea's house late that evening, she saw a bunch of people standing outside Agaea's front porch. Sarah pulled her car into the driveway and addressed one of the people in the crowd, they all looked angry and itching for a big scene.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked.

"That witch came into town today and starting plucking plants from Mrs. O'Malley's garden," said the man. "We all saw her rummaging through her garden and ruining her plants."

"Now, now, you're all being silly," said a voice from the midst of the crowd. Sarah looked up to see Agaea was on her porch, trying to soothe the wrath of her confronters. "I was just taking them for one of my medicines and dear Ethel was so kind to let me take them. I made sure to pay for them, ask her yourself."

"Ethel O'Malley's too old to stand up to the likes of you!" said another person in the mob. "You probably brainwashed the old bat into giving you her herbs for your sick rituals!"

"Now, now," said Agaea again. "I would have used my own herbs but I've been so busy lately, I've used up a good deal of my stock. That's . . ."

"We don't want you in our town, witch!" screamed someone else.

"We don't want you leeching off our lifestyle, witch!" cried yet another offender.

The entire mob started chanting and shaking their fists at Agaea. "WITCH! WITCH! WITCH! WITCH!"

"Leave her ALONE!" Sarah demanded, shoving her way through the crowd to stand next to Agaea on the porch. "You stay away from her, all of you!"

"Who's that?" asked one of the men in the crowd.

"An outsider!" said another voice. Sarah scanned the crowd and saw that it was Sean, the man they'd seen at the department store the other day. "She sticks up for that witch!"

"Agaea didn't do ANYTHING WRONG!" Sarah yelled at the crowd, her temper boiling beyond the breaking point. "You all had better stay away from her or I'll call the police!"

"The police don't want her either!" bellowed Sean and the crowd yelled in agreement.

"They still put the law before their personal feelings," Sarah yelled. "Or else they should. If you people were in anyway decent, you'd leave her alone and get on with your lives. Stop obsessing about this. She's a human being and has rights."

The crowd all glared up at the two of them. Finally, a middle-aged man stepped forward. "Fine. Consider this strike two, witch! If she comes loitering through our neighborhoods again, then we'll take action and nothing any friend of hers is gonna stop us. We don't like you, witch, and we don't want you."

"I understand, Wilbur," said Agaea, simply and kindly. "I'll not do it again."

"See that you don't," said the man called Wilbur. He then turned to the crowd. "That's enough. The witch has agreed to leave us be."

"We don't want her!" screeched an old woman. "I want her gone from here!"

"We gathered to put an end to her trespasses not to start a bloodbath," said Wilbur, sternly. "This woman spoke in her defense and that is enough. Come, let's return to our town."

Grumbling, the crowd dispersed. Wilbur shot Agaea a 'this-is-your-final-warning' kind of look before he took off with the rest. Sarah growled angrily at them as they left.

"The _nerve_ of those people," she hissed. "How dare they!?"

"It's alright," said Agaea, gently. "Just let it be, Sarah dear. Come, you've arrived to meet with Jareth again, didn't you?"

Sarah gaped at her. "Are you just going to pretend that that didn't just happen?" she said disbelievingly.

"Yes, I am," said Agaea. "These people are on their last legs with me. I didn't think they'd mind if I paid Mrs. O'Malley if I borrowed some of her plants, but apparently they did. I was running low on things here and she has the most lovely herb garden, I couldn't resist. Still, if I cause too much trouble, they may get violent and then nobody can save me, not even you."

Sarah huffed. She didn't like this one bit. She didn't like the thought of these people treating her kind friend so cruelly. Agaea watched her with a kind of sad impatience.

"It's over, Sarah," she said. "There's nothing you can do. Now, would you like to meet with Jareth or not?"

Sarah swallowed her feelings on the matter and nodded slightly.

Agaea smiled. "Then come on in," she replied, opening the door.


	12. The Evil Symbol

Though Agaea had said that they would see Jareth again once they were inside the house, the last thing Sarah expected was to see him standing only three feet away from the door, staring out the window through a gap in Agaea's thick curtains. The moment Agaea closed the door, he turned around to look at Agaea and glared reproachfully at her. Agaea smiled at him.

"You saw that little scene from the window, did you?" she said, her smile becoming a little sad.

Jareth nodded curtly.

"You're wondering why I didn't stand up for myself?" Agaea asked him.

Again, he nodded.

"It was not my place to turn things violent," said Agaea, with a shrug. "I have little love for the people of this town, but I don't want to be kicked out of my house. Better to let them feel like they've won something rather than start a war."

Jareth sniffed in a disapproving sort of way. But then his eyes found Sarah. Just like before, a rush of reorganization and powerful emotion swept over Sarah as she returned his gaze. She tore her eyes away from his and instead gave him a quick once over, noticing that he seemed to be wearing little more than the blue robe she'd picked out for him and that gold amulet that he always had.

Agaea smiled at the two of them. "I'm going to make some tea," she announced. "Would either of you like some?"

"No thanks," said Sarah, nervously. Jareth shook is head in reply.

"Alright then," said Agaea, smiling carelessly and swept off into her kitchen.

Jareth went over to the couch and sat down on it, silent as ever. Sarah went over to sit on Agaea's armchair and folded her hands in her lap. For a long time, nothing really happened. Sarah wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure she should. What if talking in front of someone who couldn't was tactless? Still, the silence was _agony_.

Sarah endured the quiet for a few minutes, then couldn't help herself any longer. "Um," she mumbled. "W-would it be okay if I asked you a few things? It'll try to keep them as simple 'yes-or-no' questions so you won't have to say anything. You can just shake or nod your head."

Jareth looked over at her and blinked, not much expression on his face. He seemed to think about it for a second, but then nodded.

"That's good," she said, breathlessly. "Um, well first off, how are you feeling? Better?"

Jareth nodded. A shadow of his old, enigmatic smirk was playing on his mouth.

"Good," said Sarah, feeling the awkwardness starting to sink in again. There was another pause while Sarah tried to think of something else to say or ask. Finally, feeling too uneasy to sit still any longer she blurted out, "Look, I'm sorry."

Jareth raised an eyebrow at her.

"I . . . I . . . I'm sorry that I . . . didn't respond . . . to you . . . for so long," Sarah stammered, not looking at him anymore. "I . . . heard you calling me in my dreams. You were calling for me, for my help. But, you already knew that, I'm sure."

Sarah chanced a glance at him to see that he was staring at her in a politely puzzled way. Finally, slowly, he shook his head.

"You . . . you _didn't_ know?" Sarah said, stunned.

Again, Jareth shook his head.

"But . . . then . . . why did I hear you?" Sarah asked, bewildered.

Jareth pulled a clueless face and shrugged. It was as if he was trying to say _I haven't the faintest idea, but even if I did it would likely be a lengthy explanation which I'm in no condition to give._

"Oh, sorry," said Sarah. "Do you think it had something to do with the fact that I was holding on to your heart at the time?"

Jareth nodded and made a _That probably had something to do with it_ face.

"Yeah," said Sarah, remembering her many dreams. "It was always just your voice. I never saw your face or anything like that. You were calling my name over and over. I figured you knew."

Jareth's face twisted into a cheerless grin and put his head down onto his fist, a gesture which probably meant _Truth be told, I was in no condition to know anything._

"Oh," said Sarah, again. This was harder than she thought. "Well, in any case, if I had paid more attention to the dreams . . . you wouldn't have had to suffer for so long. I could have saved you sooner, if I'd been brave enough. But I wasn't. I was afraid. . . . I'm sorry."

Sarah lowered her eyes to her fingernails, feeling embarrassed and guilty. He didn't seem to remember anything. Of course, she couldn't blame him. After all that had happened, how was he supposed to have any answers? He was the one who was tortured for ten years! Still she'd thought that he would have remembered . . . that moment . . . right after they'd summoned him . . . and she gave him his heart back . . . .

Sarah's thoughts were disrupted by a finger brushing lightly against her cheek. Her head snapped over to see Jareth had risen silently from the couch and was now kneeling in front of her, his mismatched eyes gazing gently at her. Sarah felt her face flush with color at being so near him. Had they ever been this close before? Once, she remembered. In the tunnels of the Labyrinth, when he'd asked her how she was enjoying her time there, he'd leaned in and was just about this close. Close enough to touch, she remembered. Her heart had pounded then too.

Jareth's eyes left hers and starting gazing down her body, looking her up and down as if looking for damage or harm. He must have been worried about how holding his heart had affected her. His fingers were still brushing her face, ever so lightly and his other hand slid itself into her own. Sarah found it amazing that he could still say so much even though he couldn't speak. His gestures were all saying something to her. His eyes and hands were speaking to her.

_Do not blame yourself_, his gestures were saying. _Carrying my heart has been a burden to you, I know. It seems we've both endured much these past years. I am very glad to see you again and I don't want you to blame yourself._

Sarah was awestruck by the tenderness of his motions and his actions. She moved a little closer to him. He looked up into her eyes and gave her a sly smile. The way he was kneeling in front of her, holding her hand, reminded her deeply of a man about to propose. He raised himself up a little higher on his knee, his face inching closer to hers. If he came just a little bit nearer . . .

"Tea's ready!"

Sarah and Jareth both jumped as Agaea stuck her head into the room from the kitchen, grinning. "Are the two of you sure you don't want any tea? It's oolong!"

"N-no," stammered Sarah, blushing furiously. "Th-that's alright, Agaea, I'm fine."

Jareth shook his head insistently and moved back over to the couch, his face red and his manner irritated.

* * *

Things didn't improve with Jareth's inability to speak. It seemed the most he could do was make hand gestures and expressions for anyone to have any idea what he was thinking or feeling. Carl had suggested that Jareth try writing down what it was he wanted to say, but that didn't work. It turned out that, though Jareth seemed to speak English, he wrote in a language that was completely unrecognizable. Unable to be heard, Jareth mainly just sat and sulked while Sarah, Agaea, and Carl talked around him. If they had to ask Jareth something, it had to be a yes or no question so that he could answer clearly. It did nothing to improve his mood.

"There's really not a lot that we can do for him," said Agaea. "I've suggested trying to summon his voice here, like I did with his body and powers, but he seems to think it's a horrible idea. From what Carl and I can gather, it is with Chaos and if I tried to summon it, I might bring him along with it."

"That can't be good," said Sarah.

"It would be the farthest thing from good," said Carl, shuddering. "Chaos is forbidden from ever entering our world, so trying to bring him here would be catastrophic. I don't think our world could hold the strain of bringing such a powerful, evil being into our world."

"How do you mean?" Sarah asked.

"I mean, the veil that separates our world from theirs is all about balance," said Carl. "The worlds can only sustain so much good or evil. Our world has a _lot _of evil in it as it is and if Chaos, who's the embodiment of evil, were to come here . . ." Carl shuddered.

"Yikes," said Sarah, also shuddering. "I don't want him here, definitely."

Sarah spent as much time as possible at Agaea's house, only leaving to go to her hotel very, very late in the night. She felt inclined to be with Jareth and to help him. But Jareth seemed to think he was doomed never to speak again. His depression and edginess weren't welcoming, but Sarah tried to stay close to him nevertheless. Finally, on Sunday evening, she came into his room to bring him dinner (Jareth wasn't comfortable enough to sit at meals with the rest of them).

Jareth was sitting on his bed, apparently staring into space, when she came in. His expression brightened at the sight of her. He nodded to her as if to say 'hello'.

"Hi," said Sarah. "I brought you some food. You really should try sitting down with Agaea, Carl, and I."

Jareth let out a breath of laughter through his nose and raised an eyebrow.

"I know Carl must be annoying you," said Sarah, setting the tray of food down and sitting next to him on his bed. "He's just really interested and curious about your world. You can't blame him for being excited."

Jareth just rolled his eyes. Sarah laughed and put her hand on his shoulder. The moment her hand touched him, there was a slight thrill that ran down her body. She blinked and looked up at him, wondering if he felt it too. Judging from the look in his eyes, he had.

Sarah looked him over. He'd finally started trying out his Aboveground wardrobe. He was currently wearing some tight jeans (though not nearly as tight as he was used to) and was wearing a work shirt unbuttoned. She shivered at the sight of his bare chest, his amulet shining brightly against his skin. Sarah gave herself a little shake, then took her hand away and blushed.

"Sorry," she murmured.

Jareth just smiled and shook his head. _Don't be_, the gesture told her.

Sarah nodded but then jumped a bit as Jareth leaned forward and rested his head against her shoulder. His arms then snaked around her and pulled her to his body. Sarah returned the embrace, a little awkwardly. "It's okay," she whispered, as if he was a child that needed consoling. "It's okay."

Jareth just sat there silently, holding her. All he seemed to want was her closeness, but Sarah was too uncertain. She pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. "Jareth," she said. "Do you remember everything? Everything that happened in the Labyrinth you remember, right?"

Jareth nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.

"And you're not mad about . . . what I did? What I said? What . . . it lead to?"

Jareth shook his head.

"How can you not be?" Sarah asked, disbelievingly. "How can you not be furious with me?"

"…" Jareth opened his mouth and tried to speak, but no sound came out.

"I'm sorry," said Sarah, pulling away from him completely. "I'm really sorry, this is just … too hard. I'm not mad at you either, I just … I just don't know what I can do for you. I don't know where we stand."

"…" Jareth tried to speak again, more desperately, but with the same result.

Sarah stood from the bed, but Jareth reached out quickly and caught her wrist. She turned around to see him shaking his head at her, trying to convey some kind of message, but nothing got through. Sarah turned around and patted the wrist of the hand that held her own. "It's okay," she said again. "It really is, Jareth. It's fine."

Jareth stopped shaking his head and trying to speak, his head dropping sadly. Sarah watched him, her heart tugging with sympathy and longing.

"I wish you could speak again," she said, miserably. "It's sad. Your voice was all I had of you for the longest time. When I heard it in my dreams, that is. I kept running from it. But I wish I could hear it. I wish you could talk again."

Jareth let out a sigh that made it clear that he wished that too, very much. Sarah carefully extracted her hand from his and left the room, feeling awful.

* * *

Jareth didn't touch the food that Sarah had brought him. He was too lost in his thoughts to care about food. It seemed that Sarah had saved him out of the goodness of her heart and nothing more. That she was helping to care for him out of guilt alone. In some ways, she still viewed him as a monster. He was still a villain to her, and that just made him feel, if possible, worse.

It was useless to deny that he still harbored a deep love for Sarah. He wished that he could tell her that, but he couldn't. He wanted to tell her that there was no need for her to feel guilty, but he couldn't. He longed for her to know that he didn't blame her for what he'd endured, that he was beyond grateful to her, and that she needn't carry on taking care of him if it only made her uncomfortable, but he couldn't.

Jareth stood from his bed and left his room and entered Agaea's washroom. Once he was there, he turned on the water in the sink and splashed some water in his face. He usually did this when he was frustrated and upset. It was something he did instead of crying. Jareth didn't know how to cry, or else couldn't remember how. He couldn't remember the last time even a single tear had come to his eye for anything other than a particularly wide yawn. He'd been told, however, that crying could make one feel better but since he couldn't this was what he did instead.

He was just so _sick and tired_ of not being able to speak. He must have cursed Chaos and his Agents straight into hell hundreds of times, but there was nothing he could do about getting his voice back. Chaos still had power over him. He was at Chaos's beck and call, even in the confines of the Aboveground. But there was nothing he could do to get rid . . .

An idea, a horrifying idea, flashed through his mind at that moment. His hand rose up to touch the amulet, the Symbol of Chaos, around his neck. He'd never tried anything like this before. No Agent ever tried it, but if he could do it, would it be enough to sever Chaos's hold on him? He didn't know. There was no way to know except to try.

Jareth reached around the back of his neck and felt the chain of the amulet there. He then wrapped the chain around his index fingers, clutched the rest of the chain in his fist and began tugging. The chain was immensely strong. He pulled harder. It didn't give. He pulled even harder. There was still nothing.

Taking deep breaths through his nose, Jareth continued to pull and pull at the chain. It wouldn't give, so he tried harder. The chain was starting to cut into the skin of his fingers. Before long, he felt the skin give way and warm blood coated his fingers. He didn't care. He kept pulling. The chain sank deeper into his flesh, blood now trickling down his back. It was very painful. He kept pulling. Soon he felt some other pain beyond that in his fingers. A deep, menacing tug on his insides was now added to the pain in his hands. He scrunched his face up at the pain, but didn't stop pulling on the chain.

There was progress being made. The chain was starting to weaken. Good. The metal was sinking deeper into his cut flesh and was now sinking into his palms as well. Ouch. His insides were convulsing as if his whole being was opposed to what was being done to him. Even more ouch. He ignored it all. He kept pulling on that chain. His blood-soaked, agonized hands pulled the chain tighter and tighter and tighter. It was getting weak. He was in a lot of pain. He kept pulling. He felt something wet leaking from his eyes and, opening them slightly, he saw two tiny drops of blood running down from the corners of his eyes, like the very tears he was unable to shed.

He pulled on. If this didn't end soon, his fingers were going to be severed off! He pulled harder, he bled more, his whole being hurt. He felt like the chain he was pulling on. Like a man in a rack, he felt as if his whole being was being pulled tighter and tighter and tighter and . . .

* * *

Sarah was in Agaea's living room, getting ready to head back to her hotel when she heard a shriek and something heavy falling on the floor. Thinking instantly of Jareth, Sarah panicked and fled into the hallway. She opened the door to his bedroom, but Jareth wasn't there. She then hurried over to the bathroom and forced the door open. She looked inside and screamed.

"JARETH!"

Jareth was lying on the ground, not moving. There was blood all over his hands and down his back and even some leaking from his eyes. Sarah hurried over to him and lifted his upper half into her lap. As she did she saw that the golden amulet that he always wore was on the ground, the chain was broken and was also covered in blood. Sarah stared down at Jareth and tried to rouse him.

"Jareth! Jareth, can you hear me? What happened here? Jareth, what's going on!?"

Very slowly, Jareth opened his eyes and looked up at her. He stared at her, his breathing shallow and then his lips parted.

". . . Don't . . . touch . . . the . . . amulet . . ." he wheezed, then he collapsed in her arms.


	13. The Unchanged Emotions

He'd felt it the instant it happened. It was like something had snapped within his mind. One quick _snap_ and his disloyal Agent, the traitor Jareth, was gone. How Jareth had had the stomach to do such a thing was astounding. Too astounding. How could he have lost one of his Agents so completely? How had he been outwitted by his own pawn?

The discovery of Jareth's bid for freedom had surprised him, then sent him into a rage, then sent him plotting how to get a hold of that miserable wretch, but then, it made him think a little more on the situation.

Chaos was never known to putting all this eggs in one basket. There were several things keeping his Agents tied to him so that they served him with the utmost respect and fear. They had sworn their loyalty to him, that came first, and then there was the Symbol of Chaos. These things were just his first two safeguards. Jareth had given his loyalty to another by means of falling in love. Now it seemed that Jareth had stripped himself of his Symbol voluntarily. This was quite a feat. He'd been right to make him an Agent in the first place. He was very strong and excellently powerful. Still, this made him all the more annoying as a traitor.

Chaos smiled to himself when he thought of Jareth. There was one more thing that would keep Jareth from being _completely _free. If he dared to declare his services to another, then the last safeguard would be revealed. He'd never let him or any of the other Agents know of this final thing. It would take more than love and brute strength for him to be rid of _that._

". . . help. . . . please . . . please, help . . ."

Chaos's attention was brought back to the present. He looked down at the Pit, one of his more fun devises of death. He'd set a worthless whelp to stand upon a circle of floor before his throne, then he would merely snap his fingers and send the sod falling several feet onto some iron stakes. Some were sharp, some were dull, and all were sure to bring slow, very bloody, very painful death. Chaos looked down at the miserable fool who was impaled down there now. How pathetic he looked. One of the sharper stakes had skewered him through the stomach and he was now bleeding onto the floor.

Chaos rose from his throne and descended down a few steps to that he could safely enter the Pit. The poor sap had ended up here from his own ignorance and stupidity. He'd come in the hopes of gaining the power that Jareth had forsaken. He'd asked to be an Agent of Chaos. Chaos had regarded the fool and told him that, if he could pass his test, then he could take over where Jareth had failed. Little had the fool known that the Pit was the test. He'd been so sure of himself and so confident that he'd gladly accepted the test, but was still completely surprised when the Pit had opened at his feet and he'd fallen to the stakes. What had the cad been expecting? Time to prepare!? Silly.

Walking slowly and carefully through the stakes, Chaos approached the dying creature. It was a young, overeager Wilder, an elf of the mountains. He should have known, they were all so power-hungry and eager to cause mischief. Wilders do make good pawns, but they just weren't cut out to share the same power as his dear Agents.

Approaching the stake on which the Wilder was impaled, Chaos reached out one finger and ran it along the rough metal of the stake. Once the finger was coated in the Wilder's thick, vibrant blood, he took the finger to his lips and licked the blood from his fingertip.

"A fine vintage," he told the dying elf. "You're a much tastier treat than you look. There's no way you could be cut out to be an Agent. This is the proof. This is all you're worth being. A scrumptious treat."

The Wilder let out a long, agonized moan as Chaos slowly swept up the blood with his fingers and slid it into his mouth, taking a sip at a time.

* * *

"I was the third to receive the title of an Agent of Chaos. He doesn't just give his powers to anyone who asks. He has his own, meticulous method for selecting us. I don't remember much prior to my being an Agent, but I remember that . . . I was pleased for the chance to join the ranks. It was common knowledge that he was getting powerful and dangerous and the prospect thrilled almost the same amount of people it horrified. Many tried to get him to take them on as his Agents, but most were foolhardy, greedy, and without backbone. So, Chaos had them destroyed. I don't think any of the ones who sought him out were actually made into Agents. Like me, they were chosen without asking. You didn't have to see the horrors he was capable of to know that the only answer you could possibly give him was 'yes'."

"And you've been an Agent for . . . how long?" Carl asked, pausing in his note taking.

"Longer than I care to admit," Jareth answered, shortly. "As I said, I do not remember much. It depresses me that I can't remember but . . . there's little I can do about it. Chaos took those memories long before I betrayed him. I never really cared to have them back. I'm not the only one. I don't think any of the other Agents know much about who they were before the shadow of Chaos engulfed their lives."

Sarah listened to Jareth and Carl talking in the other room. She was delighted to hear Jareth speaking again. She'd been stunned when she'd heard him speak after he'd collapsed in the bathroom the other night. It turned out that the amulet he wore was a gift that Chaos had given him when he was first made an Agent. The amulet was what caused Chaos to still have a hold on him, even here in the Aboveground. By ridding himself of the amulet, he was able to sever the hold. He still wasn't confident that he was _completely_ free from his old master's grasp, but it had caused his voice to return. Best of all, following the return of his voice, his bad attitude had diminished and was being the sly, mischievous, cunning Goblin King that Sarah remembered from so long ago.

At Sarah's urging, Jareth finally sat down with Carl to answer the very long list of questions he had about Chaos, the Agents, the Underground, and everything. Sarah could tell that Jareth didn't really like this idea and most of his answers were short, to-the-point, and abrupt. But the more snappish Jareth's manner was, the happier Carl seemed to be.

"You are _just_ like Dad pictured you!" he said giddily, jotting down more notes. Jareth flashed Sarah a look as she'd crossed the room, quietly asking how much longer he'd have to keep this up. She shook her head at him and drew a finger quickly across her throat. "Be nice or be sorry!" was her message.

Jareth grinned back and continued to endure Carl's questions. Before long, Agaea broke them up to announce dinner. Carl didn't seem to keen on dropping the conversation, but he put his pen down and went into the dining room. Jareth stayed behind.

"I'm not too hungry," he replied. "I think I'll wait."

"Suit yourself," said Agaea, and she gave Sarah a wink and then departed into the dining room with Carl.

Sarah came over and sat down next to him. "Thanks for humoring Carl," she said. "I know he can be irritating."

Jareth shrugged. "He is your friend, is he not? Besides, it feels so good to be able to speak again. I feel as if I can talk for hours straight just to celebrate its return."

Sarah laughed. "I'm glad it's back. But how did you do it? What was that amulet?"

"That was a gift from Chaos," said Jareth, his eyes darkening slightly. "All of the Agents wear that same symbol. It was a way to distinguish us from other people in the Underground. It was referred to as the Symbol of Chaos, a mark to show the world that we are his prized followers. But it wasn't just a decoration. It also served as a kind of link or key. It kept us together, connected to our master. Now that I have rid myself of it, I no longer feel the bond with him as I once did."

"Wow," said Sarah, in disbelief. "I didn't know. I saw you wearing that thing before, last time, but I didn't know. I never knew . . ."

"You had no way of knowing," Jareth said, calmly. "There was no possible way you could have known. In fact, I preferred that you didn't. I am bad enough, I didn't need you tangled in Chaos's web."

"Is he that horrible?" Sarah asked.

Jareth gave a short, harsh laugh. "My dear Sarah, he is the _definition _of all that is horrible. He is a master of evil and all things unholy."

"Then why serve him?" Sarah said, looking over at him. "If you hate him so much, where'd the loyalty come from?"

Jareth blinked, surprised by the question. "I . . . don't remember," he said. "A terrible excuse, I know. But much of my life prior to becoming an Agent and ruler of the Labyrinth is unknown to me. However, I think I was always interested in Chaos and his deeds. There was something about them that intrigued me. I know for certain that I did not put up a fight when Chaos came to recruit me. A part of me . . . wanted it. Now, on the other hand, all I have now are regrets."

He turned and gave Sarah a sly smile. "A shameful way to live, don't you think?"

Sarah shrugged. "No, it's not shameful. If you have regrets, then you can make up for it. There's still time. There's always time, isn't there?"

Jareth gave a hollow laugh, but his mismatched eyes were sparkling. "Still innocent and pure after all these years, are you not, Sarah?" he said, lightly. "In many ways you have changed over this past decade but those changes are mostly outward. Inside you are generally the same girl who ran through my Labyrinth. Still kind, yet cunning. Still innocent, yet devious."

Sarah huffed at that. "I like to think that I'm a bit different than before," she said, briskly. "I don't complain about the world being fair anymore, for one thing. For another, I'm not as much of a brat then either. I've learned to mean what I say and not take things for granted."

Jareth's smile suddenly became more genuine. "I think you misunderstood me, Sarah. I was not referring to the girl you were _prior_ to the Labyrinth. I was speaking about the girl who I faced at the _end_ of it. All your lessons learned and your character improved. Yet, in many ways, you are still pure and kind. These are beautiful qualities that should never be lost, no matter how many years pass." He brought up and hand and slid one finger along the skin of her jaw. "You'd be amazed how often traits like those are lost when a young girl grows to become . . . _such_ a beauty as you."

Sarah's insides tightened and her face blushed. She then gave herself a little shake, forced a laugh, and brushed his hand away. "Come on, now," she said. "None of that."

"And why not?" he asked, smirking. He moved a little closer and leaned in towards her. "Is it wrong of me to simply admire you? Different worlds aside, I'm just about the same as any human man here. And any human man here would have to be blind, oblivious, or a downright idiot not to notice one so lovely as you."

"R-really," Sarah said, trying to sound unaffected by his charm but her stammering gave her away. "I haven't forgotten what a charmer you could be, Goblin King. Nor have I forgotten how tricky you are. If the first thing you're going to do with your voice back is try to . . . to . . . mesmerize me or something than I wish it was still gone."

Jareth frowned. "You said you missed my voice."

"I . . . I did," she breathed, taking in just how close he was. "But if . . . if you're going to . . ."

"It cannot be helped," said Jareth. There was a bite of sharpness in his tone. "I feel as I feel, that's it."

"But . . . I . . . how . . .?"

Jareth didn't answer. He simply leaned in quickly and pressed his lips teasingly against the very corner of Sarah's mouth. He pulled away before she could protest. "I don't care about what you said to me. I don't care about your victory over the Labyrinth. In some ways, I'm glad that you made it through. If you hadn't, you would not be the woman I see before me. I'm proud of the woman you've become and delighted to know her. What's more, I cannot stop myself . . . from wanting you."

Sarah gaped up at him. She was trembling all over as he scooped her into his arms and held her against him. In his eyes, there was nothing but complete seriousness. He wouldn't have said what he had if he didn't _completely_ mean it. She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her.

"It can't be helped," he said, shortly. "That has never changed, not after anything that's happened to us. For thirteen years, my feelings for you haven't changed at all. Not at all," he murmured as he came forward and pressed his lips to hers.

All she could do was whimper in delight and return his kiss passionately. Her brain seemed to short out for a moment. She was completely lost in the sensations he was invoking within her. His lips were soft but the kiss was deep and fiery. The stuff of dreams.

They were brought abruptly back to the present by the sound of the dining room door banging open. "Sarah! Jareth! You really should come in and get something to eat, the food is getting cold. Hey! How about we make another cake? How does that sound?"

Sarah gaped in the direction of Agaea's voice. She and Jareth broke apart the instant they'd heard the door open. That stared at each other for a moment, then reached an unspoken agreement to put this on hold until they had more time to themselves. They slid off the couch and headed into the other room together. Sarah felt a little awkward for the rest of the evening, sitting next to Jareth with her friends on the other side. She knew she really ought to be taking things slow with the former Goblin King. That was the smart thing to do. It was unfortunate, therefore, that for the rest of the evening she was plotting how best to get Carl to go home and get Agaea out of her own house so she and Jareth could be alone again!

* * *

Sarah went to her hotel room that night (she didn't trust herself sleeping under the same roof as Jareth, in case she lost her cool and attacked him in his sleep). When she returned to Agaea's house the next day, she found it full of people. Worried that it might be more of those disgruntled townsfolk, Sarah hurried inside. It turned out she didn't need to worry. About half a dozen men and women were gathered in Agaea's house and they were all wearing clothing like Agaea's. She went over to Jareth, who was sitting on the couch and merely observing, and asked what was going on.

Jareth smirked. "If I am understanding correctly, they are here for some kind of celebration."

"Of course," said one of the visitors, a young man with his hair dyed platinum. "It's Beltane! It's one of the best pagan holidays ever! Agaea, sweetheart, don't tell us you'd forgotten. You _promised_ we could host the bonfire here this year."

"I know, I did," said Agaea, pleasantly. "I know you've been looking forward to this, Cas, but I don't think the neighbors would appreciate it. I've already pushed their buttons enough last month. Also, I have been entertaining people these last few weeks."

"Oh, but Jareth doesn't mind," whined a woman who was dressed all in Goth punk style clothes. "Don't you, Jareth?"

Jareth shrugged. "I have no say in this," he said. "This is my sister's house and she may do what she likes."

Agaea laughed. "You're so indecisive, brother. You always make me do all the hard work."

Sarah already knew the cover story they'd thought up for Jareth's sudden appearance in town. They were pretending that he was Agaea's brother and had dropped in for a visit. It was a surprisingly good cover which nobody seemed to doubt. Given Agaea's way of live and Jareth's strange appearance and the fact that they were both blonde, nobody seemed to question that they were related.

"Cas, Arrabell," said Agaea, addressing platinum boy and Goth girl. "I can only host the bonfire if everybody agrees to help clean up and clear out by sunrise, okay? I just have no room whatsoever for hosting any all-nighters. Is that alright with everyone?"

"Agreed!" cried the woman, Arrabell. "Okay, everybody, let's start setting up outside!"

The crowd let out a cheer of 'Huzzah!' and went out to their cars and started taking things like folding chairs, picnic tables, and bunches of kindling into Agaea's wide backyard.

"Ah," said Agaea, contentedly. "Aren't things lovely when they're lively?"

"Um, sure," said Sarah, uncertainly. "Agaea, who were those people? And what's Beltane? I've never heard of it."

"It's a holiday that celebrates the coming of spring," Agaea explained. "Those people are fair folk and celebrate the pagan holidays as others would celebrate Christian ones."

"Fair folk?" Sarah said, uncertainly.

"Yes," Agaea said, happily. "I have many friends within their circle. When they asked if they could have their Beltane celebratory bonfire behind my house, I told them they could. That was before all our adventures began," she beamed at Jareth. "Anyway, I'd better go help set up." She hurried out of the room to join her friends.

Sarah looked down at Jareth. "What are your views on this?"

"Agaea has very kindly allowed me to stay in her home," he said, simply. "I have no problem in letting her drabble in these outlandish beliefs and even if I did I wouldn't say anything. I have no place to go and I do not wish to leave."

"That's fair," said Sarah, listening to the people setting things up in Agaea's yard. "It's her life and she's our friend."

Jareth nodded and turned toward the sound of the construction, a smile starting to form across his lips. "I wonder just what kind of event this is will turn out to be," he murmured.

**Ying-Fa: What kind of event indeed, Jareth! Okay, thank you so much everybody who has been waiting patiently between updates for my story. I'm excited for this next one. I'm hoping that you will all please go on loving my story and leaving your reviews. They really, really help get me in gear! Speaking of them, leave them here and I shall be back with the next chapter within the week. Thank you kindly.**


	14. The Beltane Dance

Preparing for Agaea's Beltane bonfire took up a large part of the day. Jareth sat patiently in the living room, watching people wander by and putting up decorations and cooking things but never volunteering to help. He seemed to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the preparations.

"It's like being back with the goblins," he said cheerfully, watching a woman in Renaissance clothing hurry by with a chicken in her hands.

Sarah felt mostly in the way of everything and was willing to sit down with Jareth and watch everybody else work. Everybody seemed pretty curious about her there. Many people asked if she was one of Agaea's customers, but Sarah simply told them that she and Agaea were merely friends. Nobody seemed to believe her but then Agaea started going around and whispering in people's ears whenever they started asking. After that, they'd blush, grin, apologize, and then leave.

"What are you telling them?" Sarah asked her, suspiciously after this happened for a fifth time.

"Nothing," said Agaea, innocently. "Just that you're my brother's ex-fiancée and that you still get along well but are trying to ignore the feelings that are still in bloom between the two of you."

"WHAT!?"

Agaea laughed. "I'm kidding . . . about the fiancée part."

"Aaaaaagaeaaaaaa," Sarah moaned.

"Oh pooh," pouted Agaea. "I'm allowed to have fun, aren't I? Besides, I'm far from blind, Sarah dear. Anyone who is anyone can tell that you two are still very interested in each other."

"That . . . well, I . . . that's . . . um," Sarah stammered, trying to find something to say.

It was true. She found herself very attracted to Jareth. It was strange and plenty unorthodox, seeing as she spent the majority of her life being terrified of him and believing that he nearly caused her to die. It was strange but, nevertheless, all the time she'd spent trying to help him recover and become himself again, she couldn't help but grow closer to him. Her old fears were forgotten and the fascination that she'd had with him back when she was a teen had taken its place. The fact that he was so charming and sure of himself certainly didn't help how she felt.

"What about your neighbors?" Sarah asked, changing the subject. "Don't you think that hosting a bonfire will make them angry at you again?"

"I'll manage just fine." Agaea sighed heavily. "They are just so suspicious of me. But the bonfire shouldn't be any worse than those horrific parties those bratty high school children throw. I've never been able to get a good night sleep on graduation night, y'know. If children are the future, I might as well make myself a bowl of hemlock stew and be done with it."

Sarah laughed. "So you don't think you'll get in trouble."

"Hopefully not," said Agaea. "They might get angry if they see me setting a fire in my backyard. The problem is that it is _my_ yard and I'm practicing _my_ rights to practice my beliefs. If they try and hound me simply to vindicate themselves, then just let them try."

"So, just what goes on at a Beltane bonfire?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, it's just an old-fashioned excuse to make noise," said Agaea, simply. "This is how Cas and Arrabell and the rest celebrate. It's mostly just a normal party. There will be food, music, dancing, story-telling, just about everything. There will not be any illegal substances, naturally, but I can't say the same for a bottle of wine or two being passed around."

"Wine?"

"A little formal for such an event, don't you think?" Agaea said, beaming. "Cas believes that more common beverages like beer and vodka are . . . well, a little too much like a normal house party. Besides, Arrabell is allergic to hops."

Sarah laughed and nodded. Just then, Agaea's phone rang. Agaea excused herself to go and answer it.

"Hello."

"Agaea! It's me, Carl."

"Oh, Carl! A very pleasant Beltane to you! Are you coming to the celebration?"

"Huh? Beltane? Celebration?"

Agaea laughed. "Carl, you're so out of the loop it's silly. A couple of my friends and I are celebrating Beltane tonight. There'll be a bonfire and all sorts of nice things. Shall we expect you to come along to?"

"Um, no. Sorry but I've got a meeting tonight. Some other relative that's trying to steal my dad's house. Moron."  
"I'm so sorry," Agaea said, sympathetically.

"Agaea," said Sarah, tapping her on the shoulder. "I think I'm going out for a little bit. I'm going to need some things from the store."

"Alright," said Agaea, turning to Sarah. "Be back soon, okay?"

"Okay."

"Was that Sarah?" said Carl, who was still waiting on the phone.

"Yes," said Agaea.

"Um, how long will she be staying in town?" Carl asked.

"She wanted to stay for a few days until she was sure that Jareth was settled and fully recovered," Agaea replied. "They're just lovely together, aren't they? He's still quite infatuated with her, and I think she's starting to love him back! Isn't it wonderful?"

Carl coughed on the other end of the line. "Agaea, um . . . Well, I've been doing a lot of looking over my dad's notes and . . . it might be a really bad thing for Jareth and Sarah to . . . to start liking each other like that."

"How could it be a bad thing?" Agaea huffed. "They make a lovely couple. I'll be bamboozled if they don't . . ."

"Agaea, this is kinda important!" Carl interrupted. "Chaos was always paranoid about anyone trying to steal the loyalty of his Agents. Love counts! If an Agent falls in love, Chaos counts that as a betrayal."

"But Jareth is no longer bound to Chaos," Agaea said. "He is free."

"I don't know if getting rid of the Symbol of Chaos is enough, but I hope it is," said Carl. "Agaea, this could be really bad. You have to be careful with them. If something happens to them, we won't be able to stop it. Chaos is a force from another world that you and I can't scratch."

"Carl, I know what Chaos is," said Agaea, sharply. "He's a vile, cruel, and evil being. If he harms these two any further I will fight with all my power and I will see him fall. You have my word."

"Really!? Um, Agaea, isn't that . . .!"

"I must go now, Carl," said Agaea, quickly. "I have guests to see to."

She hung up before Carl could say another word. She then reached up and drummed her fingers on her jaw, thinking . . .

* * *

It was evening when Sarah arrived back at Agaea's house later that day. The sun was almost completely set and Sarah could see that the Beltane bonfire had begun at last. She could see Agaea's party guest dancing and hear music being played. Sarah hid a grin and fought the urge to participate as well. Instead, she slipped inside the house.

It was very dark and eerily quiet inside with nobody there. None of Agaea's candles were lit anymore and all of the misshapen bottles that held her concoctions cast creepy shadows along the wall. The empty house was starting to unnerve her so she headed for Jareth's room, thinking he'd still be in there. But once she knocked, announced that she was coming in, she found that his room was empty too. Was he outside with the others? Frowning, Sarah decided to take a quick peek outside to see what was going on.

Sarah went back through the house and opened the back door into the yard. What met her there was a spectacular sight. All of Agaea's friends were cheering and laughing and dancing around the enormous fire that blazed in the yard, casting a bright, eerie light through the darkness of the night. They spun, sang, and danced together and Sarah was once again reminded of that dream, long ago, of dancers within a crystal ball.

As she stared at them, transfixed, she found the one that she was looking for. Jareth had joined the fray, fitting in splendidly with the other dancers. All he wore were tight jeans and an unbuttoned dress shirt which revealed his chest unabashedly. He moved with complete grace, stepping expertly among the other dancers, his arms wide and making a spectacle of himself. Sarah could also hear, just barely over the roaring of the flames and the laughter of the party-goers, Jareth's beautiful baritone voice singing with the music. It was some kind of Gaelic ballad that Sarah didn't understand, but his voice made the words run through her and she could almost interpret them. It was a simple song of summer and celebration.

Sarah was helpless to move. It was such a mesmerizing sight. Jareth in his element, singing and dancing among enthusiastic fellows, was just too beautiful a sight. She saw him move around the giant flames, close enough so that his mismatched eyes reflected the fire. He looked, now more than ever, like the creature of myth that he was. He was the embodiment of magic and wonder.

The music ended and the celebrators clapped and cheered. Sarah managed to snap out of her dazed thoughts and looked around. What was she doing out here again? She'd been so caught up in watching Jareth, she forgot that she'd just wanted to see where everyone was. But then the music started up again. This time the tune was much slower, but still fast enough to dance to. Sarah's head turned in the direction of the sound and found herself only two feet away from the Goblin King she so admired. And he was looking directly at her.

Sarah gulped. He was too gorgeous. A light sweat on his brow from the heat of the fire and the speed of his dancing made his skin shine slightly. He was smiling the kind of smile she would expect to see on a wolf right before it pounced on a particularly juicy rabbit. Sarah opened her mouth to speak (what she was going to say was as much a mystery to her as to anyone) when Jareth extended his hand to her, inviting her to join in the dance with him. Her eyes traveled to his hand and then up to his face, which suddenly became much more serious than before. Heart pounding and body trembling with fear and anticipation, she reached forward and placed a quivering hand into his. As his fingers closed around her hand, Sarah felt as if she'd just done something very big; as if she'd sold her soul to the devil or something.

Jareth pulled her gently into the ring of firelight. He turned to face her, took both her hands in his, and guided her into a fast, flighty dance. It wasn't anything she couldn't keep up with, but Sarah quickly found herself feeling a little dizzy . . . a little light-headed . . .

_**Enchantress came to me**_

_**And said, meet me at the lake tonight**_

_**I hunt this song to the white**_

_**Through the shroud of snow I saw paradise**_

_**Peace, no more lies**_

The haunting music filled her ears and fueled her feet. She felt herself falling deeply into the spell of the music, the dance, the magic in the air. It did not feel like they were in the Aboveground any longer. It was like being back in the Underground again, where the very air teemed with magic and wonder. The only things keeping her from falling over were Jareth's steady hands. They held hers and guided her through the dance, controlling her spins. Through her blissful confusion she managed to open her eyes. Jareth looked almost as entranced as she was. His eyes were fixed on her and whenever the dance brought them too close he almost seemed to be in pain.

_**Crestfallen soul**_

_**Rest for this night**_

_**Love is here**_

_**Right here under my wings**_

It was as if the other dancers didn't exist. All there was in the universe was the fire, the shadows, and Jareth. Sarah was only too happy to ignore everything else that was out there. Here, now, she was right where she wanted to be. It wasn't like last time. It was nothing like the crystal dream. There she'd been confused and out of her element. She'd been a child in a grown-up's world. Then, he'd been trying to make her forget the world, forget everything and focus solely on him. Now, however, she _chose_ to forget. She _wanted_ to focus on him alone. She was losing herself to him, that was certain.

_**I dream of wolves**_

_**With them I run**_

_**For me she lengthened the night**_

_**I am home**_

_**I am in peace**_

The words made little sense, the music blurred in her mind. It was hard to process anything. It was impossible to think. But, then again, thinking was bad. Who needed to think anyway? This sensation of falling, of sinking into oblivion, was serene and blissful. She liked it here, in nothingness. With only Jareth for company, she could stay like this forever. The heat of the fire and the chill of the night air were such a lovely mix. She was used to the dance by now. Every spin was controlled, every step was precise, she had this down like she'd been doing it her whole life. Jareth made for an excellent partner. Together they moved in graceful sync.

_**Crestfallen soul**_

_**Rest for this night**_

_**Love is here**_

_**Right here under my wings**_

The music was slowing down, so was the world. Sarah wanted to groan. She wanted to stay in the spinning world of nothingness. She didn't want to leave! But all things must come to an end and slowly, as slowly as she could make it, she and Jareth came to a very slow stop.

Sarah suddenly realized that she was a little short of breath. She stood still for a moment and took several deep breaths, her hands still in his. When she looked up again the first thing she saw were Jareth's eyes. One look in those mysterious, mismatched eyes told her all that was going through his mind. She knew full well what he wanted. The only thing was, he knew it too.

Before anything more could happen, Jareth took hold of one of her hands and pulled her away from the fight and the others (there were others? Sarah'd forgotten all about them). Once they were lost in the dark shadows by Agaea's house, Jareth pulled her roughly against him and claimed her mouth with his own. Sarah returned his kiss hungrily. There was no point in resistance at this rate. She was falling for him, hard and fast. She wanted to be with him, now more than ever. He mattered to her. He was too important to her to pass up.

Jareth's kiss turned very serious in a matter of seconds. One hand snaked around her waist and the other tangled itself in her hair. Sarah let out a sigh of passion as she sucked at his bottom lip, her own hands sliding sensually down his chest and wrapping slowly around his waist. After a few moments, it seemed to be too much for him. He pulled away, breathing heavily. Even in the darkness, Sarah could make out his eyes. They were gazing down at her with all the intensity in the world. Those eyes were asking her a very serious question, one that she had an immediate answer for.

"Yes," she whispered, leaning into him.

"Sarah," he murmured into her hair. "Are you certain . . .?"

"_Yes,_" she insisted. "With all my heart, yes. I'm falling for you, Jareth. I know it. Please. I don't want to think about it too much and back out."

Jareth's arms tightened around her and he breathed in the scent of her hair. She loved the feeling of his embrace. It made her feel like the most important and precious thing in the world. She squeezed him back and placed a very small kiss in the crook of his neck.

"Come," Jareth said. He took her hand in his again and began leading her through the darkness, back toward Agaea's house. "Come, Sarah."

Her mind only on what was to come, she obeyed.

**Lyrics from "White Night Fantasy" by Nightwish**

**Ying-Fa: What will happen next, I wonder!? Only time will tell. Please leave me your reviews, dear ones!**


	15. The Last Safeguard

**Little warning: A hint of lime in this one, but nothing explicit. Thought I'd let you know.**

Agaea watched as Jareth and Sarah disappeared into her house. Judging from the way Jareth was holding her hand and the dream-like state in which Sarah followed after him was all the evidence she needed to know what their plan was. She wasn't the only one to notice it either.

"Agaea," said one of the party-goers. "It seems your brother and is old girlfriend are getting back together now!"

"Ah, the magic of Beltane," sighed Arrabell. "It was always the prefect time for exploring one's carnal desires, isn't it? We must not forget that it is also a celebration of life, mustn't we?"

The others laughed, but Agaea did not. There was a chill in her bones as she watched them disappear into her house. Something was troubling her. Perhaps she should not have been so hasty to look over Carl's warning. Perhaps Chaos really was not ready to relinquish his hold on Jareth yet. This was troubling to think about.

"Agaea?" said Cas, coming over. "What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid that we must wrap things up very soon," Agaea announced. The others let out a disappointed groan. "I have angry neighbors who will look for any excuse to have me kicked out of the neighborhood, or even the town. I mustn't keep this going for too long. Please, my friends, cooperate with me."

They all muttered in agreement, but a grudging agreement. The music was turned off and they began to clean up. Agaea wandered about, her mind on other things. Something big was about to happen.

Something that worried her greatly.

* * *

It was happening almost too fast. The walls of the darkened house passed in a blur as he guided Sarah to his room. He could barely focus on where he was going, but he managed to avoid running into anything on the way there. Sarah followed him, her hand still clutched in his. She was too beautiful tonight. Everything was perfect. The dance around the bonfire, the music, the night, all of it revealed to him that he just couldn't wait any longer for her.

Once they reached the door to his room, he was so disorientated that he almost forgot how to work a doorknob. Thankfully, he remembered quickly. He pushed his way into the darkened room, Sarah on his heels. When they were both inside, he took the girl in his arms and pushed her up against the door. She made a startled noise at the violence of his actions, but she immediately stilled. He studied her in the shadowed room. The only light that was coming in was a few weak beams of moonlight coming in from the windows. But he could see her well enough.

There was nothing in the world lovelier than her. Sarah's pale skin was luminescent in the moonlight and her dark hair blended in with the shadows. Her eyes were closed in anticipation and her pretty mouth just slightly open. There was no way he could resist such an invitation. He leaned forward and caught her lips with his yet again. He had to hold back a moan. There was nothing in this world or the next sweeter than Sarah's kisses. The feel of her soft, sweet lips caressing his own was in danger of driving him insane. He did not think he could prolong this for too long. He wanted it to last, certainly, but was afraid that he might ruin things by being overeager.

Jareth sneaked a hand down her side and slid it up underneath her shirt. He shuddered at the feel of her warm skin underneath, discovering that all she wore underneath was a silk and lace, corset-like undergarment. He couldn't help but grin into their kiss. It was so nice compared to the endless layers and petticoats that the regal women of the Underground sported. This was much more straight and to the point. Very enjoyable.

Sarah's own hands did not remain immobile for long. She slid them inside his open shirt, un-tucking it from within, her hands gently exploring his chest as she went. He restrained a groan with difficultly. Sarah then slid the shirt off his shoulders and he shrugged it off onto the floor. He responded in kind by bringing his hands back underneath her blouse and sliding it upward. Sarah raised her arms obediently and in no time at all, the garment fell to the floor with his shirt.

Jareth pulled her to him in a tight embrace and sighed at the feeling of her warm skin against his. He lowered his head to her neck and began placing small kisses over it. Sarah sighed deeply and made urgent little noises deep in her throat as his hands began to examine her modern undergarment, trying to figure the complicated thing out. The sensations stirring within him were making it hard to remain on his feet.

_She truly is amazing, isn't she?_

Losing patience, he lowered one arm down to her knees and wrapped the other around her shoulders. In one swift movement, he lifted her into his arms and, with two steps, laid her onto his bed. He joined her upon it instantly. He lowered his head and caught her into another deep, soul-searching kiss.

_Never a finer woman, wouldn't you say? She's most lovely. She's all yours, isn't she? All yours._

_Yes_, was the only thought he had in his mind. She was his, for tonight at least. Right at this moment she belonged to him and him alone. He never wanted this to end. Not ever. After tonight, he could die happily, knowing that she was his. Even if it was only once.

_But why must it be once? Surely she must know how you feel. Surely she knows what you mean to her. Have you not told her? If not, you must. You must let her know. This must be done properly, don't you agree? Right now, she is looking only for an outlet for her desire. If this is to be done properly, she must know that this means more to you than that. Don't you want this done in the right way? Don't you want her love or are you content with one experience based solely on lust?_

Sarah was now clawing at him, bringing him ever closer to her, their mouths still caught in that torrid kiss. Jareth pulled away with the utmost reluctance and brought his kisses downward, to her stomach. She writhed into him, gasping. Her hands reached down to his jeans, her fingers trying clumsily to remember how to undo the button and zipper there.

"What . . . were . . . you _thinking_?" she panted desperately. "Wearing . . . such . . . tight clothes?"

Jareth chuckled into her skin. He brought his head back up and kissed her again, more gently. He loved her so much. She meant more to him than his own life. Everything about her, absolutely everything about her, he adored. He needed her. He loved her.

_Tell her. Go on. Tell her. She must know. Let her know that she is your heart. Give her your loyalty before you give her yourself. Make it official._

"Sarah," Jareth gasped, barely in control of himself anymore. "Sarah, I . . ."

_Say it. Say it to her. Tell her now._

"Sarah, I love you. I love you so much. You are my life. My love."

There, he'd said it. He was glad he'd said it too. He attacked her with renowned passion, now that she knew what she meant to him. Just what he felt for her.

Then something horrible happened.

Sarah's skin, warm and smooth as silk one moment, became cold and clammy feeling. Her breath caught in her throat and she made a frightening, choking noise. Jareth moved off her at once and looked down at her in fear.

"Sarah?" he gasped, all passion gone. "Sarah! What's wrong?"

"I . . . don't . . . know," Sarah gasped, her brow furrowed in pain and fear. "Jareth . . . it hurts . . ."

"Sarah!"

But there was no helping her. Sarah wrapped her arms around her middle and turned onto her side, pushing her face into a pillow. She brought her legs up and curled up into a little ball. She was moaning again, but now it was because she was in pain. Her face contorted into a mask of agony. Sarah opened her mouth and made like she wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked gasp.

Jareth sat next to her, terrified at what was happening. He touched her shoulder gently, but withdrew his hand quickly. Her skin was ice cold to the touch. There was nothing he could do to help her. What had happened? Why was this happening? He didn't dare use magic on her, for fear it would make it worse. He was torn. He did not know what he was supposed to do.

" . . . Sarah," he whispered, still stunned at what was happening to the most important person in his life. His mind reeled, trying to think of something he could do. But there was only one person he could think of how was at hand to help. "Agaea," he muttered, still in shock. But then his voice cleared and he managed to scream. "AGAEA!"

* * *

Carl paced up and down Agaea's living room, his hands flapping wildly, as he gibbered on and on and on about what was going on. Jareth paid almost no attention to him whatsoever. His head was buried in his hands, his elbows balanced on his knees. He was the portrait of guilt. Twenty minutes had passed since Sarah suddenly took so horribly ill. He knew, now, what had happened and he felt sick with shame about it now.

"I mean, I always knew that Chaos was capable of horrific things," Carl was saying. "He's only, I mean, the most horrible thing ever to exist. But this, I never saw this coming. I don't think even Dad knew that he could do this. I mean, we're all here in the Aboveground. We're supposed to be safe. We're supposed to be . . ."

"Carl," Jareth grumbled. "Shut up."

Carl, thankfully, did just that. They sat in strained silence for several long minutes until Agaea returned her face grim.

"I gave Sarah a mild sleeping tonic," she said. "That's all I could do for the pain. But she just keeps getting worse. I don't know what to use to help her, in case it makes her worse. If only . . ."

"It is a curse," said Jareth shortly.

Agaea and Carl looked over at him, stunned. He didn't care if they stared at him. He'd been stupid not to think of this. Sarah may not be in this condition if he'd been smarter about how he was around her. He should have known Chaos would do something like this.

"It is one of Chaos's ways to keep his Agents from falling away," Jareth told them, his eyes staring at the floor. "He's put a curse on our tongues. If we ever dared to verbally declare our bond to another person, the curse comes into affect. I didn't know that _this_ was the nature of our curse. I thought it would be _us_ who died if we vowed loyalty to another. I was wrong, it seems. The curse targets the one we are vowing ourselves to, not us. This is punishment. This is my punishment for betrayal. Yet it is Sarah who has to suffer."

Carl looked dumfounded, but Agaea gave him a pitying look. "You told Sarah that you loved her, didn't you?"

"Yes." There was no point in denying it.

"You meant it deeply, didn't you?"

"Of course."

Agaea hung her head. Her long, blonde hair fell into her face, shielding it from view. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled, sounding absolutely miserable.

Jareth couldn't take it any longer. He stood from his seat and marched out of the room. Just before he was out of earshot of the others, he heard Carl ask if Sarah was going to be alright.

"I'm afraid not," he heard Agaea reply. "If I don't find a way to cure her quickly . . . she's going to die."

* * *

Jareth was not a hero. He knew that as he cast a quick spell over himself. The Aboveground clothes that he was wearing transformed into the kind of attire he was used to, his Goblin King's finest. A hero would be doing what it was he was planning to do for Sarah's well-being alone. A hero would think of nothing but his goal and riding into danger and face what was to lie ahead with nothing but courage to guide him. A hero would seek out all other possible means to achieve his goal. A hero would never try to achieve his goal by means of darkness. A hero would hesitate before resorting to violence. A hero would not go into danger planning schemes that were tangled with evil.

But Jareth was not a hero.

He marched over to the windowsill, his cloak billowing behind him like black wings. He summoned one of his crystals and was about to cast another spell when someone spoke softly behind him.

"You're going back?" It was Agaea.

"I am," said Jareth.

"I see." Agaea sighed heavily. "You will go to great lengths to save her, wouldn't you?"

"I would."

"Even if it is something that could potentially cost you her love?"

Jareth lowered his gaze. "She will not die like this, Agaea. I will sacrifice any feelings she has for me to insure that she does not die like this. I don't care what it means for me."

"You're planning something dark," Agaea commented, simply.

"You forget who I am," Jareth said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "I am an Agent of Chaos. A traitorous one, yes, but an Agent nonetheless. It is my nature to destroy. If that costs me my chance at Sarah's love," he sighed. "So be it. I am prepared to face life without her. It _will not_ end this way."

Agaea nodded to the floor. "I see. I will not stop you then. But," Agaea's voice suddenly got very stern. "I will not wish you luck, either."

Jareth almost smiled in spite of himself. He then threw his crystal out into the night. It seemed to vanish into thin air, but the spot where it vanished suddenly rippled. A hole appeared in the world, widening with each second. The veil between the worlds was opened. Jareth stepped onto the windowsill then, without turning around to face her, he said to Agaea, "Keep her alive until I return." With that, he stepped through the portal back into his own world.

It felt strange to set foot on Underground soil once again. He breathed the air and felt the magic that lived there fill his lungs. It was near twilight now and he was standing in the midst of a dank and lonely-looking field in the midst of the Underground. He knew this place to be called the Fields of Oblivion. This was one of the few places that were safe from Chaos's grasp because it was so inconspicuous. He wanted nothing to do with this pathetic little wasteland and, for that reason, many creatures fled here to live in a shadow of peace. Things were overlooked here, easily forgotten. That was what made them such a good spot for the ones he was looking for to hide.

Jareth wandered the Fields briskly, summoning yet another crystal to help guide him. It glowed dimly as he wandered through the wasteland, searching for the ones who would help him now. As his feet carried him deeper into the field, the glow of the crystal suddenly increased.

_I'm getting closer_, he thought as the crystal's glow became steadily brighter. Using the brightness of the crystal as his compass, he followed it until he came to a grubby mound in the soil. It was too small to be a hill or anything of significance, but the crystal suddenly shone bright as a miniature sun, then burst into a powder which sprinkled upon the mound.

_Here, eh?_ Jareth thought, eyeing the mound with mild interest. _Figures they'd find a rabbit hole to cower into._

Jareth knelt down and stroked the mound with one long finger. At once, it began to grow larger and larger, rising out of the ground, swelling like a balloon. As it rose, a shabby tin chimney popped out from the top and a round window and large door appeared as well. When the swelling stopped, it looked like a small house made from a hollowed out hill. Jareth eyed it, interested, and then he stepped up toward the door and knocked.

The barking of a dog greeted his knock, but nobody came to open the door. Jareth knocked again, louder this time. Several minutes passed by and nothing happened. For a third time, Jareth knocked sharply on the door. This time, he heard a familiar voice grumbling from the inside.

"Alright! Alright!" The voice complained loudly. "I'm a'comin', I'm a'comin'! Geez, who would come knockin' on doors at this time 'o . . ."

The door opened and the resident stopped his grumbling at once. Jareth smiled broadly at him.

"Hello, Higglesworth. Have you missed me?"

Hoggle the dwarf stared at Jareth, his jaw dropped in terror and his eyes wide as dinner plates.

"J-J-J-J-JARETH!"

Hoggle tried to slam the door closed again, but Jareth caught it mid-swing and held it open. "Pardon the intrusion," he said, stepping inside.

"I'm seeing things!" Hoggle gibbered, grasping his aching head. "I've gone cuckoo! Jareth's dead! Everybody knows that!"

"Really now, Hedger," said Jareth, pretending to be upset. "It's terribly rude to call people dead when they're standing right in front of you. I don't know who told you that I was dead, but you should tell them not to spread ugly rumors."

"H-H-Hoggle . . ." Hoggle corrected him, weakly.

The house was small and grubby. A table with three chairs was squeezed into the front room and there was a doorway leading elsewhere. Ambrosius, the sheepdog who had barked at the door when Jareth first arrived, now cowered in his basket under the table, trembling.

"Sir Hoggle! What ails thee? Who has . . .?"

From the doorway came the other two creatures that he sought. Sir Didymus, the little fox knight, and the Stone Caller named Ludo. Both creatures, like Hoggle, stared at Jareth in shock the moment they spotted him.

"Y-Your Majesty!" gasped Sir Didymus. "Canst it truly be thou!?"

"King!" Ludo roared nervously.

Jareth smiled at them. "Hello again, my minions," he said, lazily. "Hiding out here in the Fields of Oblivion, are we? A commend your choice. Had I been anybody other than myself, I would have had a terrible time trying to find you."

"How can this be?!" Hoggle shrieked. "I saw yas bein' tortured by Chaos and the other Agents! I SAW yas! With my own eyes, I saw it! How can ya still be alive? It's been years and years . . ."

"How I managed to escape certain death is not what I am here to discuss," said Jareth. "Something very important is going on, presently, and I need to reenter the Labyrinth once again. The three of you are going to help me to do that."

"What!?" cried Hoggle. "Why us!?"

Sir Didymus's eye, however, glowed brightly. "Your Majesty! Art thou on a quest?"

"Something to that degree, yes," said Jareth, brushing him off.

"Then we shall aid thee!" Didymus cried, happily.

"Wait a minute!" Hoggle yelled. "Why should we help you?"

"Because, Hagsbreath," Jareth growled, looking down at the dwarf with menacing eyes. "Your friend of old, Sarah, is dying and the only means to save her are is in the Labyrinth."

"Sawah!" gasped Ludo.

"Milady!" cried Didymus. "Egad! That settles it! We must aid thee! I must say it will be such a wonderful relief after so many years of being cooped up in this dingy little place."

"Hold yer horses, Didymus!" Hoggle snapped. "I still don't see why we should help you at all." He pointed a wrinkled finger at Jareth. "Why would you be so keen ta help Sarah? She defeated you! I don't believe ya'd want ta save her. For another thing, why would ya ask _us_ fer help? Mr. High-And-Mighty Jareth don't need help from us. This must be some kind of vengeance plot! I won't go through with anythin' ya . . ."

"How about _this?_" Jareth hissed, reaching out and grabbing the dwarf by the front of his shirt and hoisting him into the air. "I shall give you two options. You can come with me now of your own accord and have a part in saving Sarah's life. Or I can drag you to the Labyrinth anyway, haul your ungrateful hide to the Bog of Eternal Stench, stick your ugly face in it and hold you under _until you choke!_"

Hoggle squealed like a frightened piglet within Jareth's grasp. "Okay! Okay!" he cried. "I'll come along!"

"Good," Jareth snarled, dropping the dwarf. "Get ready to leave this place. And be quick about it. Time is precious."

**Ying-Fa: The cat is among the pixies now! Jareth's plot to save Sarah is beginning to unfold. I shall return within a few days with the next chapter. Reviews are delicious.**


	16. The Cunning Agent

Jareth stared out at the kingdom that had once belonged to him. "I had forgotten just how magnificent it is," he murmured. The Labyrinth was spread out before them; its many twisted corridors and solid stone walls were almost just the same as when he'd left them ten years ago. It was startling to see it now, after all this time. He'd missed it so.

Hoggle shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Are ya sure ya need us here?" he said. "Getting through here should be a walk in the park for you. I doubt ya'll really be needin' us. Maybe we could just . . ."

"Quiet," barked Jareth. "I need you three to accompany me into the Labyrinth. It would be foolishness to enter without aid."

"Right you are, Your Majesty," said Sir Didymus. The little knight seemed only too happy to be out-and-about once again. The years in which he'd stayed cooped up in the Fields of Oblivion had been torturous for him and he'd longed for a chance to get out. Even Ludo seemed to be pleased to be wandering about. Their house was much too small for him and it had been a pain to live in.

"Pretty," Ludo sighed, looking out over the Labyrinth. "Ludo miss home."

"As have I, my good monster," said Jareth, nodding. "Well, we must be off. I must head for the castle at once. Sarah's life depends upon it."

The party of four set off toward the great stone entrance, down the steep hill. Jareth headed down the slope quickly but expertly. The others were slipping and sliding unsteadily down the trail.

"Wh-why did ya say that?" Hoggle asked. "About Sarah's life dependin' on us?"

"Because it is the truth," Jareth replied curtly. "Chaos has found Sarah at last and is punishing her."

Hoggle gasped. "C-C-C-Chaos? Y-Ya mean . . . _the_ Chaos?"

"How many others do you know who are called Chaos?" Jareth snapped.

"But that can't be right!" Hoggle trembled. "Sarah's in the Aboveground. She's safe from him, isn't she? How did he know about her runnin' the Labyrinth in the first place? How did . . ."

"Enough of these silly questions," said Jareth, irritably. "Let us go."

They reached the bottom of the hill and approached the outer wall of the Labyrinth. Jareth headed straight for the wall and put his hands on it gently, leaning in closely. Hoggle and the others started looking around for the door. They tried asking the wall for the way in, then tried yelling at it, then kicking it (at least Hoggle did that) and achieved nothing (other than a terrible pain in Hoggle's big toe).

"I don't get it," Hoggle whined, rubbing his foot. "The doors always used ta open up when someone asked the right questions. Why isn't it workin' now?"

"Because the Labyrinth now heeds the words of another," said Jareth. He wasn't looking at the others but stayed against the wall, the side of his face pressed against it. "The Labyrinth will now open for almost nobody. Only those punished souls may enter and none may exit."

"Then how do _we_ get in?" barked Hoggle, irritably.

"Simple-minded dwarf," snapped Jareth. "You still see the Labyrinth as nothing more than a jumble of stone walls, don't you?"

"What else could it be?"

"The Labyrinth is a living thing," Jareth said, his hand now stroking the wall slowly, as if it were a particularly skittish pet. "The sentient Labyrinth is constantly present. Now, if you are done making a ruckus, I must try to get in touch with it."

"But Majesty, why would the Labyrinth speak to thou?" Didymus asked. "It serves under a new master now, does it not?"

"It does," Jareth replied. "But the Labyrinth has a long memory. It will remember me and recognize my power. If it still sees fit to bend to my will, then getting to the castle will not be a problem at all."

Jareth fell silent, still stroking the wall. After a moment, he began to murmur quietly. Suddenly, the walls of the Labyrinth began to tremble and a low, thrumming sound filled the air. The Labyrinth had recognized Jareth and had welcomed him back.

"I seek entrance to the castle," Jareth said softly, speaking to the Labyrinth as one might to a lover. "Yield to me once more. Bend to my will. Allow me into the castle at the center once again."

As if on cue, the bricks in the wall began to shift and split open. The wall beyond that one opened too and so did the one beyond that. The whole Labyrinth was pulling in its many walls, forming a long, clear road for easy passage. Jareth smiled as he watched it unfold and gave the wall an affectionate pat before turning toward the three companions.

"Shall we?" Jareth said, smirking.

"Isn't this cheating?" Hoggle asked, uncertainly. Nobody answered him. They all set off on the path, the walls closing themselves up as they passed.

It did not take long for the creatures of the Labyrinth to notice that something very strange was going on. Goblin sentries came by on several occasions, saw Jareth, gasped and ran away as fast as they could. Just as the path had reached the Goblin City did the entire Goblin Army greet them at the gates, armed and ready.

"We're sorry, Yer Former Majesty," said one goblin captain. "But you's not suppose ta be here no more! Lord Quintus told us nots to be lettin' nobody not allowed inta da castle."

"Oh did he?" said Jareth, not at all bothered by the hostility of his old subjects. "So Quintus is in charge of the Labyrinth now."

"Yup," grunted a goblin sentry. "Lord Quintus be 'charge o' us nows."

Jareth smiled slyly. "I see. Tell me, what is your new master's name?"

"Lord Quintus," said the armies, like a pact of obedient kindergarteners.

"And what is it you used to call me?" Jareth asked.

"You're Jareth, the old Goblin King," replied one tiny little goblin in the front.

"Correct," said Jareth. "Now what is more important, a king or a lord?"

"Um," mumbled another goblin. "A king, I guess."

"But Lord Quintus is in charge now!" bellowed one of the larger goblins. "Jareth's not a king no more! We ain't gonna listen to 'im!"

"Wait a moment," Jareth bellowed as the army got riled again. "I have another question."

"No more questions!" yelled the captain.

"Just one other," Jareth said, sternly. "Now, I want you all to tell me . . . why is a raven like a writing desk?"

There was a very long pause. The goblins lifted their eyes and scratched their chins, wracking their tiny brains. As they stood there, their weapons pointing uselessly at the ground, Jareth turned and muttered to Ludo. "If they come to their senses before we get to the castle, summon the stones, understand?"

"Yeah," grunted Ludo.

While all the goblins were distracted with this horribly difficult question Jareth, Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus began to sneak around them. They'd almost made it to the castle gates when they heard one of the goblins say, "I give up. Why is a . . . HEY!"

The rest of the goblins snapped out of their dim-witted trances and about-faced. They charged at the four of them. Ludo, on cue, let out a loud roar that echoed throughout the Goblin City. At once, stones and rocks came to Ludo's aid, tumbling and rolling along the streets of the city and chasing the goblins, causing them to scatter.

"Not THIS again!" one goblin yelled as a stone twice his size started tumbling after him. "Goblins! Hold your ground! Cast the nets!"

The little goblins started pulling out large nets from out of nowhere. They began catching the rocks and holding them still, then hoisting them up into the air, keeping them from causing more destruction.

"Ah," said Jareth, watching the creatures with mild interest. "They've actually learned. What a surprise. Still, I am not about to be stopped. It is such a shame. I didn't want to do this."

Jareth stretched forth his hands and summoned three crystals in each palm. He began spinning them, faster and faster, then tossed them into the crowd of goblins. There was a brilliant flash of light, squeals of shock from several goblins, and suddenly the rocks that had been imprisoned by the nets were back on the ground. The goblin army, on the other hand, was now entangled in their own nest, several feet into the air.

"Hey! What happened!?"

"How did we get up here?"

"Help! I'm a' scared of heights!"

"Let us down!"

"I want to get down!"

"I want to be free!"

"I want to be released!"

"I want to be on the ground!"

"I want my mother!"

"I want help!"

"I want my rights read to me!"

"I want freedom!"

"I want my mother!"

"YOU ALREADY SAID THAT!"

"It was never my intention to harm the creatures of the Labyrinth," Jareth said heavily, as he watched the struggling goblins. "I still, in several ways, feel responsible for you all. I am sorry, but my meeting with Quintus must not be postponed any longer."

Jareth turned and headed for the castle. He had Ludo, with his exceptional strength push the doors open and they entered into the castle that had once been Jareth's. Quintus hadn't changed much. The stone corridors and the iron chandeliers and their columns of melted wax were almost just as Jareth left them. The only differences were that the walls were cracked in places, the floor was littered with bits of food and scraps of papers, and cobwebs were gathering around the doorframes and down the chandeliers. It may have appeared as nothing to someone else, but Jareth knew what these things meant. Quintus had not changed anything because he did not _care _to do so. Quintus was merely here because he was ordered to be there, not because he cared about the Labyrinth or the creatures within it.

Jareth and the others reached the throne room where they found the Agent of Chaos, Quintus, waiting for them. He was sitting stiffly in Jareth's old throne with only a few silent goblin guards standing along the walls of the round room. Quintus had a dark, clever face with shoulder-length dark brown hair, a thin mustache, and was dressed in a suit of fine silver. He grinned as he saw Jareth approach and leaned forward in the throne expectantly.

"One of the goblin sentries told me that you had returned," Quintus said to Jareth, his silvery voice echoing throughout the room. "I was tempted to throw him into the oubliettes for lying because I knew that my old friend and brother, Jareth, was not so stupid as to come back."

Jareth smiled at Quintus. "Then you did not know me as well as you thought you did, old friend," he said.

"Why have you come?" Quintus asked, sounding more curious than anything. "You know better than to come back. The very fact that you escaped Chaos's punishment is a miracle. Why tempt fate?"

Jareth chuckled. "Fear not, Quintus, I have not returned to steal the Labyrinth from you."

"I would not be too disappointed if you had," Quintus sighed, looking around the throne room with dismay. "I don't like it here. It's boring and dusty and the goblins snore. It's alright for you, though, you were never one for getting your hands dirty. Well, if not the Labyrinth, why are you here?"

"There is something here that I am in need of," Jareth said, now serious. "I seek the Goblin's Secret Remedy. Give it to me and I shall leave and that shall be the end of me."

Quintus blinked, surprised by the offer. But he grinned after a second and reached up to scratch his eyebrow. As his hand rose, Jareth saw a golden ring on his finger flash in the light. It was a ring that was the exact same shape as the amulet he once wore. It was the Symbol of Chaos.

"The Remedy, you say?" said Quintus, beaming. "You are referring, I assume, to the leaves of the sacred tree that grows only here in the Labyrinth?"

"That's it," said Jareth, nodding. "Give it to me."

"But why do you want it?"

"I need it."

"Why?"

"None of your business."

Quintus laughed quietly. "But, my good friend, the sacred tree only grows two or three leaves every 500 years. They have the power to break any evil spells or enchantments and, if made into a serum and drunk, it restores a life that is in jeopardy and replenishes one's will to live. You seem perfectly healthy to me, Jareth. Why do you want the Secret Remedy?"

"I just do," snapped Jareth. "Give it to me!"

"Alright, alright," said Quintus, raising his hands in mock-surrender. "If it's that important to you, a deal can be made. Traitor or not, I still view you as a fellow Agent. Now, let's haggle! I'm willing to give up this 500 years worth of Remedy for a special price. You know how much I love gold and silver, so a few pounds of . . ."

"I did not say trade, barter, or sell it to me," Jareth interrupted fiercely. "I said GIVE it to me!"

Quintus stopped abruptly. He turned and eyed Jareth carefully, looking at him in a whole new light. Then his eyes darkened and he stood from his throne, turning hostile. "Why do you want the Remedy?" he asked, suspiciously.

"That is none of your business," Jareth repeated.

"Why do you want it!?" Quintus demanded.

"Because I _must_ have it," Jareth replied, staring at Quintus with determined eyes. "I will not leave this castle until it is mine!"

"I refused to believe it when Chaos told us that the reason you betrayed us was because of some lousy, Aboveground girl," Quintus hissed dangerously. "If I find out that you want to waste a precious treasure of the Labyrinth on some stupid girl . . ."

"You will do what?" Jareth challenged. "Go back and tell Chaos? He will not be surprised. I will be long gone, with the Remedy, by the time either of you has the chance to harm me."

"What has gotten into you?" Quintus demanded. "You never cared about humans and the Aboveground before. You have been an Agent of Chaos longer than half of us, myself included. What has happened to make you into this . . . this _shadow_ of your true self?"

"I don't have to explain to you," Jareth snarled. "I will repeat myself only once more, Quintus. Give me the Remedy now!"

Quintus glared down at Jareth. "No," he snapped. "I will not give it to you. I will face Chaos's wrath myself than surrender the Remedy to you."

"Then I will take it by force," hissed Jareth summoning a crystal.

"I will KILL you if you DARE try!" roared Quintus, reaching into an inner pocket and pulling out a short, thin rod. Jareth knew this weapon. Quintus's staff may look inconspicuous at first, but it could elongate, thicken, and sharpen under the command of the one who wielded it. It was a weapon that was hand-made by Chaos himself, a gift to Quintus when he became an Agent.

"If you want this to become a battle, then I will oblige," said Jareth tossing the crystal into the air. When it came back into his palm, it changed quickly into a rapier. Quintus roared in fury and leapt from the throne. The staff in his hand grew into a long, thin pole which he swung at Jareth's face. Jareth was prepared for the blow and raised his sword in time to stop it. Then Jareth lunged inward for a lethal strike at Quintus's chest, but Quintus veered out of the way in time and swung the staff again. The two of them went on, exchanging blows and blocking hits.

Hoggle yelped as Jareth barely avoided being swatted by Quintus's staff. As much as he disliked Jareth, he didn't want him to lose in case he was right about Sarah needing the Goblin's Secret Remedy. He moved forward to help, but Sir Didymus held him back.

"No, Sir Hoggle," he said. "We must not interfere!"

"Ya want us ta just stand by let this happen!" Hoggle snapped.

"This is a duel," said Didymus, solemnly. "And a more honorable thing than a duel cannot be found in this world. You must leave this to His Majesty. He can manage on his own."

Hoggle grumbled but made no move to interfere again.

Quintus's staff thickened to where it was the size of a small tree trunk and he swung it downward at Jareth's head for what would have been a deadly blow. Jareth saw it coming in time to slide out of the way, but the staff caught his sword as it came down. The sword fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Jareth tried to summon another crystal to form another weapon, but Quintus was faster. He swung the staff again and this time it made contact. It hit Jareth in the stomach with a terrible force and knocked him to the ground. Jareth flew backward and hit the wall, the walls of his stomach nearly ruptured and the wind knocked almost completely knocked out of him.

Quintus looked down at Jareth and grinned victoriously. The staff shrank down to a thin pole again, but this time the tip became even thinner and ended in a sharp point. "You've gotten soft, Jareth," Quintus said. "There was once a time when I probably wouldn't have stood a chance against you. But now look at you. You can barely manage a simple duel. Pathetic. Still, you were once an Agent of Chaos so I must make it honorable." He lifted the staff and, rather than raising the sharp end, started parting Jareth's loose shirt with the dull end. "Let's just have that Symbol now and . . ."

Quintus gasped. As Jareth's shirt was pulled back he found, not the Symbol, but a large black and purple bruise in the exact shape of the amulet on his chest. "Where is it?" he demanded. "Where's the Symbol of Chaos!? What have you done with it?"

"I . . . took it . . . off," Jareth wheezed. His ribs ached with pain from the stomach blow and breathing was difficult. "It . . . clashed with . . . my outfit." He managed to grin at his joke.

"You can't just _take off_ the Symbol of Chaos," Quintus yelled. "It is the very thing that grants us power!"

"No," Jareth gasped. "It is . . . Chaos's means of . . . binding us to him. I . . . longed for freedom . . . so I . . . rid myself of it."

Quintus stared at him in disbelief, but then anger flashed back into his face. "Fine then," he snapped. "I'll just have to kill you like the whimpering little dog you are! You will have no honorable death by my hand." He pointed the sharp tip of his staff at Jareth's throat. "When I deliver your head to Chaos, perhaps he will reward me by removing me from this dirty little hole you call a Labyrinth. I hate it here and I would love to see it torn to pieces. The Labyrinth is for weak souls like you who don't like killing. You never could kill. You never had the nerve. You never had . . ."

What happened next was so quick that you'd miss it if you blinked. Jareth managed to summon another crystal while Quintus had been talking and had formed it into a small knife. As Quintus had gloated over him, Jareth snapped his arm back and hurled the knife at his attacker. They were so close together that it was easy for it to reach its intended target. Quintus's heart.

Quintus jerked backward and the staff fell out of his hands. He looked down at the knife sticking out of his chest with wide eyes, and then his gaze went over to Jareth. Then, without the slightest change in expression, he fell backward onto the floor. Jareth got, gingerly, to his feet. He summoned another knife into his hand as he looked down at the stunned Agent.

"I had nothing against you, Quintus," Jareth said, heavily. "I truly do regret that it has come to this. But this had to be done." Jareth bend down and took hold of Quintus's wrist.

"For . . . the . . . girl?" Quintus gurgled.

Jareth took his knife and held it against Quintus's finger, the one that held the Symbol of Chaos. "Partly," he said. "But it was mostly for myself."

In one, swift movement Jareth sliced off the finger with the ring. Quintus let out a howl of pain but then his body started to cave into itself. In a few seconds it was reduced to dust and all that remained was an empty silver suit and the golden ring that was now clutched in Jareth's fist. Unheard by the creatures of the Labyrinth, a scream of complete fury rang through the air. Only Jareth could hear it and he knew what it meant. Chaos knew what had happened. Chaos was aware of what had just transpired and, in that instant, Jareth felt something within him break.

"Now," said Jareth, looking at the ring with vindictive satisfaction. For reasons he didn't even know, he felt something that felt like tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "I am finally free of Chaos."

**Ying-Fa: Terribly sorry for the wait. A happy, belated Valentines to everybody and many happy wishes. Please continue to review. **


	17. The Decision Made

**Ying-Fa: Hey people, turns out this is . . . (drum roll) THE FINAL CHAPTER! More details at the very end of the chapter. But for now, please read and enjoy.**

Jareth stared down at Quintus's remains feeling nothing in regards to sorrow or regret. He'd expected to feel something though. This was the first time he'd ever killed directly. He hadn't sent Quintus into the confines of the Labyrinth to rot or stand by and let the creatures have at him. He had taken his life and he felt nothing. What did that say about him?

"Good show, Your Majesty!" cried Didymus. "An excellent duel it was indeed! You have done honorably."

"Have I?" Jareth said, quietly. "What makes you think that?"

"You defeated your opponent with valor," said Didymus, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You have done well, sire, very well."

Jareth merely nodded. "Come," he said. "I must have the Secret Remedy and now. We cannot stay here for long. If we do, then Chaos and all of his fury shall be upon us."

"I'll agree with that!" gulped Hoggle and they marched off deeper into the castle.

Jareth lead the way through the twisted halls and winding stairways of the castle, his mind on other things. He looked down at his open shirt and discovered that the bruise on his chest, the one that had been in the shape of his amulet, was gone. He was completely free of Chaos's servitude. He could no longer call himself an Agent of Chaos. Now all he could call himself was the most wanted being in all of either worlds. Chaos would never sleep until he found Jareth and made in suffer in every way possible. He would make sure that Jareth and everything he held dear would be obliterated.

_I was prepared for this_, Jareth reminded himself as they came upon a hidden chamber deep inside the castle. There was nothing in the room except a very large, crooked tree growing right out of the stone floor. It was twisted and deformed with many empty branches. Only one branch on the whole tree had something on it. Two tiny, sparkling leaves glimmered upon the branch. They were a bright mint color and sparkled like diamonds.

"The Secret Remedy of the Goblins," said Didymus, staring at the leaves with his one eye.

Jareth reached up and plucked the shimmering leaves from the tree and stared down at them. If these leaves did not save Sarah's life, nothing would. "Come," he said to the creatures. "Let us depart for the Aboveground."

"Alright, alright," mumbled Hoggle, looking over his shoulder as if he suspected Chaos to jump out of a shadowy corner and yell "boo". "I don't wanna stay here no more than we hafta."

"Yeah," Ludo growled softly.

"Off we go then!" cried Didymus. He seemed to be having the best day of his life. "Tally ho!"

Jareth summoned a crystal and formed a portal into the next world. He took a deep breath and stepped through, the leaves still clutched in his hand. The three creatures followed after him. They passed through a hall of darkness until they reappeared in the Aboveground . . . right in the middle of Agaea's living room.

"Oh, _Jareth,_" said a voice from the other room. Agaea herself appeared and was staring at the creatures. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Jareth didn't answer her, he simply marched over to her and handed her the leaves. "Make a serum with these leaves and give it to Sarah," he told her. "It will save her life." With that, Jareth turned and left the room.

* * *

The next two days Jareth kept to himself in his room, rarely leaving and hardly speaking to everyone. He wouldn't be there at all if he didn't need to know of Sarah's condition. The Remedy had worked wonders on her. Agaea made the serum as Jareth had told her and the medicine had worked almost instantly. Sarah's terrible pains stopped, her sleep became peaceful, and her strength was steadily returning. By the morning of the third day after Jareth returned from the Underground with the three creatures, she was all but completely healed. She was delighted to see her three old friends again. She spent hours catching up with them and chatting about old times. Jareth, on the other hand, did not even see her in all that time.

Evening had arrived on the third day when Sarah finally approached Jareth in his room. He knew it was her the moment he heard the door open. She was the only one in the house who would enter his room without knocking. Jareth had been gazing out the window and was reluctant to turn around and look at her.

Finally, she spoke. "Hey," she said shyly.

Jareth didn't face her. He couldn't bear it. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," she replied. "Apparently, I have you to thank for that."

Jareth merely nodded. His curiosity finally got the best of him and he turned to face her. Sarah wore a silk, blue and white robe of Agaea's that reached down to the floor. Face was clean and bright and her long black hair was slightly tousled, falling down her back in a cascade of waves. She was just too beautiful. It hurt to look upon her like that. Jareth forced himself to look away again.

"You saved my life," Sarah said, stepping forward. "I wanted to say thank you. I would have said it sooner but you weren't around."

"Hm," Jareth replied.

He heard her step forward but he still received a slight jolt when her hand suddenly touched his shoulder. "Well, are you going to let me thank you or not?" she asked, teasingly. Then she saw the serious look on his face and asked, "What's wrong?"

Jareth lowered his head and took a deep breath. "I am just . . . so very sorry, Sarah. I truly am."

"What do you mean?" Sarah sounded puzzled.

"It was the declaration of my feelings for you that forced that curse upon you," Jareth answered, returning his gaze to the window. "You took ill because of me. You almost died because of my carelessness. For that I can't forgive myself, not right now at least."

"That doesn't matter," said Sarah, sharply. "I'm fine, aren't I? According to the others, you saved me anyway. What does it matter what you did now that you fixed it?"

"Did the others tell you how you were saved?" Jareth asked, simply.

Sarah shook her head. "Not really. They told me you brought some medicine from the Underground and Agaea made a potion out of it. That's what saved me, isn't it?"

"Did they mention the Agent who had taken over the Labyrinth in my absence?" Jareth asked.

"Um, no," said Sarah. "There was another Agent there?"

"Yes," said Jareth. "His name was Quintus. He became an Agent several years after I had. Chaos gave him control of the Labyrinth after I'd proved myself a traitor. He always served Chaos loyally and lusted only for material things, precious metals and stones and the like."

"I see." Sarah frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

Jareth slipped his hand into an inside pocket and pulled out the ring he'd taken from Quintus. Sarah stared at it but did not reach to take it. "I know that," she whispered. "That's the same design as your amulet. That's the Symbol of Chaos, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jareth said, slowly. "This is Quintus's Symbol."

"But why do you have it?" Sarah asked, more confused than ever. "I nearly killed you to take yours off. Why would he . . ."

"He didn't take it off himself," Jareth interrupted.

"But . . . but then . . ." Sarah stammered, trying to figure out what he was saying. "You . . . took it from him."

Jareth merely stared at her grimly. Sarah understood what he was trying to tell her and she gasped.

"You _killed_ him!?"

Jareth nodded. Sarah raised a hand to her mouth.

"I killed Quintus and stripped him of that which bound him to Chaos," said Jareth, looking at the ring without the slightest emotion in his eyes. "By doing so, I'd committed my final betrayal to Chaos. I killed one of his Agents, which he views as his most prized possessions. Since I took one and destroyed him, Chaos has now severed all ties that bound me as his Agent. I am not a treacherous Agent anymore. Now I am an enemy to be defeated. The severing of the link between us has marked me as a foe. Now he will hunt me down and destroy me . . . me and everything I hold dear."

A lengthy silence greeted this little speech. Sarah was still too stunned to say anything and Jareth felt too distracted and miserable to discuss the matter any longer. Finally, Sarah regained her courage and lowered her hands.

"Wh-what are you going to do now?" she asked.

"I am going back Underground," said Jareth. "Now that I know you have regained your health, I can set out now. You will be safe here in the Aboveground, as will Agaea and Carl and the creatures. But if I were to remain here, that might bring Chaos's wrath upon this world and hell would, quite literally, break loose."

"But they're after you," Sarah said, softly.

"I can manage them," said Jareth, shortly. "I will not rest until I see the end of Chaos and each one of his Agents. It will be the most daring and riskiest thing I have ever done, but it is something I must do. I am the only one with the knowledge to stop him and the power. I can defeat him, I know it. But it will take time . . . and I must return to the Underground . . . and . . . I will have to say goodbye to this place."

There was another pause.

"You're . . . just gonna go?" Sarah asked, quietly. "You're just . . . gonna head off for some . . . insane mission to kill the Agents of Chaos _and_ Chaos himself?"

"That is my plan," Jareth said, shrugging.

Sarah stared at him, her face blank, for a few moments. Then her hand flew back and she smacked him upside the head. Jareth cried out in surprise and anger and rounded on her.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"It was for being a moron!" Sarah snapped. "You _honestly_ think you can just trump down to the Underground take on the most horrible creature in existence and all of his minions when _all_ of them will doing everything they can to capture and kill _you_!? Don't be stupid! It doesn't become you."

"Sarah, if anyone is going to put a stop to them it's me," said Jareth, still rubbing the back of his head irritably. "I am familiar with their power and their strategies. I know the Underground very well, I can hide from them. I can wait for them to come and find me and take the by surprise. Therein lies their flaw, you see. They are all far too overconfident. I can use that to my advantage. Chaos must be stopped, of that I am convinced and I will stop at nothing to see both worlds rid of him."

Sarah looked up into Jareth's determined eyes, returning fierceness with fierceness. "And what are we to do while you're off on this crazy little mission, hm?" she asked, sharply.

"You are to remain here in the Aboveground, where you are safe, _of course_," Jareth snarled in a tone that called for no argument. It didn't work.

"Of course nothing!" Sarah shrieked, raising her hands upwards in exasperation. "At the very least, you _have_ to take us with you!"

"Absolutely not!"

"What did you expect me to do when you told me about this little scheme," Sarah asked dangerously. "To just wish you luck and maybe send you off with a handkerchief to remember me by? To sit around like a weeping damsel and pray for your safe return? Get real, Jareth! At the very least _I am coming with you!_"

"You will do no such thing," said Jareth, with dangerous softness in his voice. "You must stay here. You have a life to live here, Sarah. Think of your family, your career, and all else you will be throwing aside if you accompany me. Think of Agaea and Carl and the creatures, do they mean nothing to you? Will you just abandon everything and put your neck on the line?"

"If it means staying with you, yes," Sarah replied, a green fire burning in her eyes. She really was very lovely when she was fired up like this. "I am not going to let you go through with this by yourself. I'd love it if Chaos was gone forever, but you can't go alone, period!"

"You have already fallen victim to Chaos's curse once," Jareth reminded her, taking in her beautiful fury. "Are you willing to do that again? I warn you, dearest Sarah, that I may not be able to save you if this should happen again. It was lucky that the Goblin's Secret Remedy was still around."

"I . . . don't . . . care," Sarah hissed, emphasizing every word. "I am NOT going to let you do this alone. I just won't. I can't. And as for my being cursed, you said it happened because you told me you love me, right? Well, buddy, here's a question for you," she came in very close to him and put her face right in his. "How do you know it wasn't because I was three seconds away from telling you that _I_ am in love with _you_?"

Jareth stared at her, surprised. Then he closed the distance between their faces and caught her lips in a scorching kiss. Sarah gave a small "hrm!" of surprise but then closed her eyes and matched his passion with her own. Jareth pulled her in his arms and sighed at the familiar feeling of her soft body against his own. He'd been so terribly afraid he'd never get to feel this again. She came so close to dying and he'd feared that when he told her about his killing Quintus that she would hate him for it. Yet here she was, back in his embrace, and just as loving and generous and beautiful as ever she was.

Jareth broke the kiss slowly and looked into her eyes. She smiled up at him, her eyelashes blinking sensually. That was enough for him. He took her hand and pulled her with him across the room and upon his bed. The silk robe was discarded first, then Jareth's clothes quickly followed suit. Beyond the window, the golden sun sank lower and lower beyond the horizon, casting a dim orange glow over the world. Before much longer it vanished completely, staining the sky ruby red before it faded into the inky black of night. The stars appeared one after the other as the moon glowed brighter from the sun's borrowed light. As night crept upon the world, the two lovers lay in the darkness side-by-side, slipping silently into the confines of sleep.

* * *

_You think this is the end of it, Jareth! It has only begun! You have made yourself my enemy. You have condemned yourself to all my wrath and for what? SO YOU CAN LIE WITH A GIRL?! You despicable fool! I shall hunt you down with all my power. My FAITHFUL Agents shall drag your sorry self down to hell with me. Consider yourself cursed Jareth, for you shall forever pay for your wicked treachery. Your days are numbered. I will march into the Aboveground, if need be, and smite you there and all the rest of the world with it. I shall take that whore of yours and force upon her every last torment I have within my power, and you will watch every second of it. I shall cut off your eyelids and force you to behold every harm I shall cast upon her. You think you can be different? You think you can stop me? You think you can stand for justice and truth? You are an idiot. There is no escape for you. You have been an Agent for too long. YOU CANNOT FIX THAT WHICH HAS BEEN SO BADLY BROKEN!!_

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Jareth woke slowly, the irate voice of Chaos still ringing in his ears. That would be the last time he would ever hear that voice, he was sure of it. Now that he was free of Chaos, all the monster could do was throw one final warning at him before abandoning him forever. Now his soul was, for the first time in too many years to mention, completely alone.

But _he_ was not alone. Nestled beside him, warm and still fast asleep, was Sarah. Jareth smiled at her and watched as she slept on, her peaceful expression filled him with a great contentment. He loved her so dearly. He felt as though he could lie there forever and ever with her beside him, basking in the bright blue light of early morning. Jareth pulled her a little closer and nuzzled her hair. He was free of Chaos, so now he was able to give himself to her completely. He was now hers to own and do with as she saw fit. He didn't mind not belonging to himself. He'd been in the servitude of others so long he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he didn't.

Sarah gave a sleepy sigh and opened her gorgeous eyes. She smiled when she saw him next to her. "Hello," she whispered.

"Hello, my darling," Jareth mumbled back and kissed her forehead. "You slept well?"

"Mm hm." Sarah sighed and turned over, away from him. Jareth wrapped his arms more securely around her and rested his head behind hers, occasionally kissing her neck or shoulder. After a few moments of content laziness, Sarah spoke in a serious voice.

"You're really going back Underground, aren't you?" she asked.

Jareth sighed. He wanted to spend more time enjoying the morning with her, but the topic appeared to be of great importance to her. She would not have brought it up otherwise.

"Yes," he replied.

"Why?"

"I must."

"How come?"

"I cannot risk Chaos meddling in our lives again."

"But why does it have to be you?"

"I am an Agent, Sarah. I am the only one who stands a chance."

Sarah rolled back over to face him properly. "You _were _an Agent," she corrected him.

"Yes," Jareth agreed. "That is why he will stop at nothing to get back at me."

Sarah lowered her gaze and thought it over, chewing her bottom lip. "Okay," she said, finally. "But I'm still coming with you. Even if you dare leave without taking me with you, I'll find a way to follow you. I swear by all that's holy I will trace you down until I'm by your side. You're not doing this alone, Jareth. That's final."

Jareth sighed, but smiled at her. "I realize that," he said. "I understand now that trying to abandon you here would be foolish. I will take you with me, but only if you agree to be as safe as you possibly can. I do not have much, Sarah. All that I have now is my love for you. If I lost that, I would rather not live."

Sarah frowned and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Don't talk like that," she said. "I love you and I'd hate to think of you doing yourself harm because of me."

"And I love you dearly as well, my Sarah." Now that Jareth was free of Chaos, he was also free to declare his love to Sarah without fear of cursing her again.

Sarah nodded. "Okay," she said. "We'll both go as long as we agree to keep each other safe, understood?"

"Understood," Jareth said, leaning in and catching his love in a deep kiss.

* * *

"You're going BACK!?"

"It is decided," said Jareth, sternly. "Sarah and I have both agreed that we will return to the Underground together and see to the end of Chaos."

Agaea, Carl, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and Ambrosius stared at the couple in dumbfounded astonishment. Then the storm unleashed.

"You're both crazy!" yelled Carl.

"Yer both loony!" shrieked Hoggle.

"Bad! Bad! No go!" roared Ludo.

"You are both the most foolish yet valiant souls I have ever beheld!" cried Sir Didymus, tearfully.

"Aw, that's so romantic," squealed Agaea.

"Arf!" barked Ambrosius.

"Chaos has to be stopped," said Sarah loudly. "Jareth knows how they work better than anyone. Maybe he can stop him, maybe not, but we just have to try. And I'm going with him."

"But this is _Chaos_ we're talking about!" Carl said incredulously. "The very same Chaos that tortured you" he pointed at Jareth" for ten years and cursed you" he pointed to Sarah "just the other day!"

"We know the risks," said Jareth simply. "Now, are you going to aid us, or would you rather remain unbothered and hide here in the Aboveground."

"Oh, I'll help certainly," said Carl, as if this was obvious. "Man, I've got a lot of research to do! Just wait and I'll run to my house and grab my books! We're gonna need all the help we can get."

"I shall also aid thee in any way I can," said Sir Didymus as Carl hurried out of the house. "It would be an honor to serve you both."

"Ludo help too!" Ludo agreed.

"I'll do whatever I can," said Agaea, brightly.

Hoggle lowered his gaze and shuffled his feet. "Well . . . Grr! I ain't gonna be the _only_ one not helpin' ya. Alright, I'll do it! But I won't be happy about it, mark my words!"

"Consider them marked," said Jareth.

The three creatures and Sarah left the room to go and get packed and ready for the long and dangerous trip. Once they were out of earshot, Jareth cleared his throat and looked over at Agaea.

"I have been meaning to ask, but the timing was never right," he said, eyeing her carefully.

"You may ask any question you like," Agaea replied, beaming.

"I did not wish to say anything in front of the others in case you did not one them to know," Jareth went on. "But I can't help but wonder . . . what a sprite like yourself is doing here in the confines of the Aboveground."

Agaea looked over at him, her eyes wide, but then she smiled. "Oh dear," she said dramatically. "I've been found out."

"It takes a creature of the Underground to know a creature of the Underground," Jareth said, smirking.

"Yes," Agaea sighed. "I came here many years ago and am in hiding."

"From what?"

"This and that." Agaea lowered her gaze and smiled sadly. "I never mean to return to the world where I was born. I can't. So, I'm just going to stay here. I feel as if I've done a good job passing off as an Abovegrounder. Haven't I?"

"You have," said Jareth, kindly.

"Don't tell Sarah or Carl, please," Agaea asked softly. "I don't want them to know about me just yet. I want them to keep seeing me as nothing but a slightly gifted friend."

"Your secret is safe with me," Jareth replied earnestly. "And I shall ensure those three idiots . . . er, or rather Sarah's friends, say nothing as well."

"You are most kind," said Agaea, looking up at him. "I hope you find Chaos and I hope with all my heart and soul that you see the end of him. You will find the way. I am sure."

"Thank you, madam," said Jareth sincerely. "I cannot thank you enough for all the support and help you have provided us during this whirlwind of events."

"You are more than welcome," said Agaea, sweetly. "Never, not once, hesitate to call upon me again. I shall watch over the both of you. And may your love continue to blossom into the strongest bond either world could forge. Though, I must say, it has increased a great deal now that you two have done the deed."

Jareth jumped slightly, then blushed. "You . . . knew about that?"

"It is _my _house," said Agaea, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And you weren't exactly . . . quiet."

"Alright, alright," said Jareth, his face reddening by the second. Agaea laughed.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

That evening, as the moon shone down, Sarah and Jareth stood outside of Agaea's house, hand-in-hand. Sarah was very nervous about returning to the Underground, but she refused to let Jareth go alone. The two of them would depart first and head for the Labyrinth. From there, Jareth would work his magic to hide it from Chaos (he knew a few concealment spells he was certain would do the trick). Once their hiding place was secured then Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus, would accompany them. Carl and Agaea would stay in the Aboveground in case they needed to escape there.

"Are you ready to go?" Jareth asked, summoning a crystal into his palm.

"As ready as I'll ever be," said Sarah, shyly.

"There will be no need to worry just yet," said Jareth, calmly. "It will be once we start killing off the Agents and severing Chaos's ties to power, _then_ the trouble will start."

"I believe you," said Sarah, nodding.

Jareth smiled at her. "You are sure you want to come?"

"I'm sure."

"Truly?"

"Yes." Sarah looked up at him. "I'll stand by you even if it gets us both killed. I won't forsake you again, Jareth. I won't ignore you when you're in danger like I did for ten years. I'll go with you and help you fight. I swear by it as the woman who loves you."

Jareth smiled lovingly down at her. "And I swear as the man who loves _you_ that I will make both worlds a peaceful place for the both of us. We shall rid the Underground of Chaos and his Agents once and for all."

"That's good. I just wish it didn't _have_ to be so dangerous."

"Dangerous situations seem to be what draws us together, my dear," said Jareth, dropping the crystal to the ground and opening the portal. "As far as I see it, this is just another trip through the Labyrinth and this time we are both the runners."

Sarah smiled trustingly up at the man she loved. Jareth grinned back, then turned to face the portal. He disappeared into the darkness until only the hand holding hers remained. Taking a deep breath, Sarah stepped forward and into the portal. With that the two lovers vanished into the night.

**Ying-Fa: And now! I present to you my biggest cliffie EVER! I'll see you all . . . IN THE NEXT STORY! That's right. ****The Agents of Chaos**** story 1 is over. I would have split this into two more chapters, but my laptop has to go to the computer doctor. He's sick. I thought it might be nicer to wrap things up now in case I lose everything and am forced to put the story on hiatus. In any case, I am so happy to everyone who chose to read my story and I hope, hope, hope that I can see you all in the sequel.**

**I feel so grateful! Thank you:**

**Ying and Yang twins, Anbu Fox, Margravine Green, Maantje, Tailz the Great, magic10, Grogie13, luvnote4u, lonely 27, Jack Hawksmoor, artseblis, NiennatheWise, Dancequeen105, Karmira, J Luc Pitard, shadowxwolf, starxchanny, scriptrix-scriptorum, Stacy Vorosco, Heartonachain, Momo Shiro-chan, ScarlettIvy, GoddessVampAngel, Nanchin, StoryLake, under00z, FaeriesMidwife, FrostyDream, Rahpsody, ChialiSnowbird, siltrana, tichtich2 and everyone who put this story or me to their Favorites/Alert lists. This has been Ying-Fa-Dono. Good night and good luck.**


	18. Super Special Sneak Preview!

**Ying-Fa: Hey, everybody! I've got something special for you! Here, for you now, is a sneak preview to The Fall Of Chaos, which is the sequel to The Agents Of Chaos. Now, this isn't a whole chapter, just part of one. I hope you enjoy it.**

The darkness of the forest was so deep and thick it could almost be felt. Endlessly, the sinister-looking, twisted trees spread out so that walking was difficult. The trunks of the trees were a dark hunter green and the branches spread outward in each direction crookedly, like broken fingers. Each branch was covered in purple leaves that were so numerous and thick that it almost completely blocked out the sky overhead. One step into this forest during the day and the world would suddenly become dark as night. If one entered its depth's at night then they would be utterly blind for not even the moon and stars could be seen there. More still, a whispering that was not quite wind hissed through the leaves of these trees, making sounds that might have been words but they could not be understood by mortal ears.

This knowledge, however, did not stop the two companions as they marched together into dark woods. They were both hooded and cloaked and stood side-by-side, their hands interlinked. The taller of these wanderers wore a black cloak that shimmered strangely, even when there was no light in the woods to reflect it. In his black-gloved hand, he held a handful of blue and white flames that served as his light. His companion, who wore and emerald cloak, stayed close to his side as they marched deeper into the bleak forest. For some time they marched in silence, the blue firelight glistening off the dark green trunks of the trees, but even if they touched, the wood did not burn. Finally, the emerald-cloaked figure broke the silence.

"We've been walking for hours. This forest is immense. Are you sure you're going the right way?"

The figure in black laughed. "Do you not believe in me, my dear? I have been through these woods several times and I know them well. Besides, I would think that you would have more faith in a man who has lived a great long time in a maze when it comes to directions."

The second figure laughed a little then, the reached up and lowered her hood. A curtain of long black hair fell to her shoulders and her bright green eyes glanced around. "You know I believe in you, Jareth," she said. "I guess I'm just nervous. This place gives me the creeps."

"The Dark Wood strikes fear into the hearts of all who enter it," said Jareth, turning to look at her. "It has always been that way. It does not help that it is also the lair of an Agent of Chaos. But, please, keep your hood on for now, Sarah."

"But my head is hot," Sarah complained.

"Still," Jareth insisted. "It would be wise to keep it on. The less Kieran knows about us, the better. The trees here give him insight, and they will surely convey our whereabouts if we give them the chance."

"The trees talk to him?" Sarah asked, reluctantly replacing her hood.

"Yes," said Jareth. "He is a treeling."

"What's that?"

"I suppose you could call it a kind of tree spirit," Jareth explained. "He is creature of nature who is one with all life and a guardian of the wild. He can hear the voices of nature and call upon them to do his bidding. This whole forest is his domain. He watches over it and protects it, therefore everything here, down to the last twig, will betray us if they have reason to."

"Really?" said Sarah, sounding astounded. "I thought all the Agents of Chaos were Fae, like you."

Jareth shook his head. "Fae are not the only creatures of intelligence in the Underground, Sarah. Unlike your world, where only humans possess knowledge of good and evil, many creatures think and feel and judge. Treelings are rare, however. They are fading away, so to have one among the Agents is a good move for Chaos. They are very influential and powerful."

"So, how do you know that Kieran will listen to us?" Sarah asked. "Do you really think he'll break away from Chaos if you talk him into it?"

Jareth didn't answer right away. He tightened his hold on Sarah's hand and pulled her through a particularly tight-nit group of trees. Just when Sarah thought he wasn't going to answer did he speak again. "I can't say for sure. Kieran has a deep hatred for the Aboveground, but he is the youngest and newest of the Agents of Chaos. I believe that, of any of the Agents, he might be the one we can convince into aiding our cause."

"But what if he doesn't?" Sarah asked.

Jareth turned to her and smiled, the light from the blue flames in his hands were casting an eerie glow on his aristocratic face making him look ever more sinister. "We will have to run for our lives."

Sarah gulped and pulled her hood back on with trembling fingers.

Onward they went into the forest, ever searching in the dark for the lair of the Agent they sought. Everything seemed to be getting progressively darker and the noises more frightening. Every rustle of a leaf sounded like the hiss of a venomous serpent, every snap of a twig under their feet put them in mind of bones breaking, and even the sound of their own breathing was disturbing. It was as though every breath they took could very well be their last.

Jareth stopped after awhile, holding his handful of flames up high so as to cast more light around them.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, trying to see what had made him stop.

But Jareth merely cursed under his breath. "No," he breathed. "I knew it. We are too late. He already knows we are here."

Before Sarah could ask what he meant, the sound of fast, gigantic footsteps hurried in their direction. The ground trembled beneath their feet and the two companions fought to keep their balance. Jareth fell back into a tree and his handful of flames died out. The wicked trees around started to bend and twist, clearing a path for whatever it was that was coming for them.

"Sarah!" Jareth called, groping in the darkness for her.

"Over here," Sarah cried out.

Jareth followed her voice and found her with his hands. "This was a mistake," Jareth yelled over the noise of the footfalls. "He's sent the monsters here after us. We must . . ."

But Jareth never finished. A huge, black something pushed its way through the trees to where the disorientated companions knelt. The massive silhouette of their attacker rushed forward and even in the darkness of the forest its horrible features could be seen. Covered head to foot in thick dark hair, it lowered its horned head menacingly and snarled through a pair of large wet nostrils through which a massive ring ran through.

The Minotaur glared down upon Jareth and Sarah, ready for the kill.

**Ying-Fa: There you are, dearies. Like I said, this is only part of a chapter, not a whole one. I hope very much to see you all in The Fall Of Chaos which I will be posting up as soon as possible (in other words: after finals are done! tee hee) Thank you all who have read and reviewed my work. You're a writers greatest joy!**


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